Blackmail Gone Wrong
by Neo Diji
Summary: The social implications of a Britannian dating an Eleven. Theirs is no fairy-tale romance to the rest of the world, and Lelouch and Suzaku must stand the consequences of their relationship. Who will bear the blame for the sins that are committed? Who will take the punishment? And who will measure it out? Read with caution due to possible triggers. Violence, angst. SuzaLulu.
1. Laying Down the Law

Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass. I do not make profit from writing this fanfiction.

 **An unrated version is on my AO3 account (NeoDiji) and linked on my Tumblr (NeoDiji).**

A/N: So, hiiiii. This is my - 4th? - time revising and uploading this chapter for this story, though it's been offline for several years because. Reasons. A lot is the same, but there are some differences (added dialogue, etc.). This story (and its prequel) is what I've worked hardest on when it comes to my writing, so feedback would be greatly appreciated if you could spare some. I don't care about the oneshots. I do care about Blackmail.

If you're looking to find a kink meme-esque story involving Lelouch being forced to have sex with random characters and loving it because he's secretly a dirty little slut, STOP HERE. THIS IS NOT THAT FIC. There is nothing romantic or sexy about the end of this chapter, just gritty realism, violence, and angst.

This first chapter especially deals with extremely sensitive subject matter, so please bear that in mind while reading - in particular violence and, in this watered-down version, vague references to oral noncon/rape. Chapters two and beyond will focus more on the plotline I have in mind - on consequences that result from the devastating things that happen in this chapter. I have done my best to stay realistic and true to emotion and to handle the material with caution so as to not offend anyone. This chapter deals with rough issues, but hate crimes happen every day in the real world. The setting for Code Geass is one where they seem likely to happen; all it takes is one person who hates strong enough to commit such a crime. That said, please be aware of adult themes and heed the warnings.

Just because the overall tone is angst does not mean there will not be fluff/humor/romance scattered throughout the story; this is a SuzaLulu fic, after all. There is also a lot of warm, fuzzy support and "moving on" themes resulting from the first chapter's graphic nature. So don't despair. There's just LOTS OF FEELS.

This story would not be even an ELEVENTH as good without my extremely wonderful, amazing, fantastic, awesome, (insert other words of this nature) beta, The Gemini Sage. She took my work, hung it out to dry, and beat all those nasty little errors and inconsistencies out of it with a baseball bat. She is love.

There will be a long prequel to this fic detailing my head-canon background for Suzaku's and Lelouch's relationship prior to what happens here. Most changes to canon will be explained in that fic. I do use canon elements for my own plot purposes, so do not expect everything to be the same.

Timeline: With some changes, this fic is set after Episode 12 of Season 1, The Messenger from Kyoto.

If I haven't scared you off, please enjoy reading!

* * *

Blackmail Gone Wrong

* * *

Chapter One – Laying Down the Law

* * *

"All Black Knights, move into position!" Zero ordered from within the safety of his own Burai. "Remember, our objective is only the Knightmare unit; don't bother yourself with the researchers. They are no threat to us presently." His latest strategy was simple enough to understand. That annoying white Knightmare had repeatedly interfered with his plans, causing setback after setback; it was clearly an obstacle that had to be removed before he could further proceed with the next stage in bringing down Britannia.

Kallen's voice echoed slightly over the 'sound only' transmission. "Zero, is this really the best way?"

Zero chuckled, understanding that his ace pilot wasn't truly questioning his orders. He knew that she was just disappointed because she wanted to trounce the pilot of that white Knightmare in a fair battle. Thus far, that had proven impossible; the enemy pilot was exceptionally skilled, and all the Black Knights knew that fact irked Kallen to no end. Instead of waiting for the next fight, the knights for justice were going to control all the conditions. Their current mission focused on the utter destruction of Britannia's latest toy.

"This is our best course of action in the long-term," the rebellion leader assured his underlings.

Of course it would have been ideal to steal the white Knightmare for their own gain, but such an operation was far too costly for the sake of time and resources. Destroying the machine would instead well serve their agenda.

It wasn't that difficult to pinpoint the location of the laboratory where it was kept when not in use. Intelligence had gathered data linking the machine to the Advanced Special Envoy Engineering Corp and a man called Lloyd Asplund, apparently well-known in his field and ridiculously proud of his latest creation. Zero could not say he shared the scientist's enthusiasm, but that was to be expected given the circumstances. From that point, it was easy to track the famous Knightmare-designer to the university where he received funding and, conveniently, carried out his work. All the data—as well as the tracking device they'd recently slipped onto it—pointed to the fact that the white Knightmare was contained in that same university, and Lelouch had had to laugh when he'd learned it was the institute directly across from Ashford Academy.

Though it proved difficult to pull off an operation so deep in the Tokyo Settlement, it was definitely manageable under Zero's carefully laid plans. With access to so many armored trucks and personnel carriers—due mainly to the Kyoto Group's recent generosity—it was easy to sneak their own Knightmares unseen from the Eleven Ghettos into the Settlement. Zero was almost certain that, with the element of surprise on their side, the Black Knights could burst into the Research and Development Center and annihilate the white Knightmare while it was shut down and unattended; after all, without its pilot, Britannia's latest model was useless. Destroying the machine (as well as the research behind it) was not scheduled to take long, and the university was rumored to have been filled with only researchers—not skilled soldiers who could put an end to the Black Knights' operation. If they worked fast enough in locating and demolishing the white Knightmare, they would have enough time to escape before reinforcements arrived. It was a lucky break that came from the Britannian machine being held offsite of a standard military base.

"What _should_ we do if we see researchers?" Ohgi asked, wanting to clarify.

Zero answered immediately. "If they aren't carrying weapons, ignore them. Spare anyone who doesn't seem to have anything to do with this lab. This _is_ a university, and there are innocents here." His mind conjured up an image of Suzaku; the Japanese youth was staying in the dorms here at the university as it was more convenient for him to carry out his military duties. Though he was an Honorary Britannian soldier, and thus technically an enemy, Suzaku was still Lelouch's best friend—or rather, more than that. At the thought, the schoolboy rebellion leader lowered his head in acute embarrassment. Seconds later, he tensed. An annoyed tick developed in his left eye and he shook himself out of it; he couldn't afford to be distracted by thoughts of his lover while in the middle of an operation. Gritting his teeth, he raised his eyes, newfound determination glinting in their violet depths.

He couldn't risk Suzaku getting hurt.

"Right," Kallen answered, echoed by her teammates.

The exiled prince-turned-rebellion leader nodded to himself. It was time to put an end to a consistent problem. "Move out! Smash the white Knightmare and use escape routes F-15 and D-7. Rendezvous at Point B before moving back to base. You all have your orders!"

With a chorus of cries of, "Yes, Zero!" a handful of loyal Black Knights tore a hole through the university wall with their Knightmares and disappeared inside, readying their attacks on a defenseless piece of machinery. Their leader followed more slowly, taking in all the details and issuing commands as needed. Yes, he may have employed underhanded tactics—but at this point, the only thing of importance was that the white Knightmare be obliterated. Destroying the machine like this was not an honorable way to win, but there was a higher prediction of success with this plan than simply waiting to deal with it in the midst of battle—especially since the latter option had failed on numerous occasions.

Besides, it wasn't as if the Britannians played fair either.

A sharp cry directed Zero's attention to a serious problem. One of the Black Knights—Tamaki, by the look of it—had abandoned course and was swinging his Burai at an unarmed uniformed soldier. The teen leader's breath caught in his throat as purple eyes recognized the profile— _Suzaku_. Why was his boyfriend near the lab of the Britannian Knightmare research facility? Yes, he roomed at the university, but his specialty was not associated with the front lines. He was a simple mechanic, so he had no business being caught up in Black Knights operations! None at all.

"Tamaki!" Zero reprimanded, hoping the note of hysteria did not carry through the transmission. "What are you doing?! _Focus_. Follow Q-1 and destroy the Knightmare!"

The hotheaded Eleven growled back, "But Zero, it's that traitor Kururugi! The asshole turned his back on his people! Don't worry, Zero, he's got nothing and I have my Burai. I can take him out no problem!"

"I said get back to the task at hand!" Zero ordered sharply. Between worrying about Suzaku and maintaining his image as a faultless rebellion leader, he was a bit high-strung at the moment. Tamaki was always screwing up, but messing with Suzaku was one thing the masked leader just would not tolerate. Growling, Zero threatened, "I won't rescue you if you get captured; you're not following my orders. Leave Kururugi alone and stop holding us up!"

Lelouch knew Suzaku was exceptionally skilled, but a mere human was no match for a Knightmare. Breathing a sigh of relief, he watched as Tamaki reluctantly changed pace yet again and followed the others. "That was close," he moaned, feasting his eyes on the sight of Suzaku's unharmed body. He'd seen his lover not two days ago, but already he was missing the Japanese boy's warmth. Groaning, he realized he had to act as the enemy; it wouldn't do for Zero to show special favoritism towards a foe. Tearing himself away, he sped after his subordinates. Suzaku was running in the same direction, but Zero was driving a wheeled machine. The rebellion leader arrived first—barely.

Kallen was dutifully attacking the white Knightmare with her Guren Mk. II, making steady progress with its destruction. Tamaki was just joining her and some other fighter-units when Zero arrived. Ohgi was acting as a shield, keeping the researchers from interfering. One distraught white-haired man was on the floor bawling his eyes out, repeatedly banging his fist on the floor and choking out, "My poor Lancelot!" A blue-haired woman knelt beside him, obviously trying to offer some comfort but not succeeding since she was so on edge herself.

"Lancelot?" Zero murmured to himself. "Is that the pilot—no, it's the Knightmare. I wonder who _is_ the pilot of that thing? It seems to be a big secret even within the military. Intelligence couldn't get anything on it. Gah, it's so irritating not knowing!" He smashed his fist on the dashboard in front of him, releasing his frustration. Then he smirked. Alarm bells were ringing and there was the obvious chaos caused by the Black Knights' abrupt appearance, but the white Knightmare—Lancelot—was being destroyed according to plan.

"Suzaku, save my Lancelot!" the white-haired man whined.

The Honorary Britannian stopped running to take in the situation. Panicked green eyes zipped over the room, trying to count the number of enemy Knightmares. Gulping, he shouted, "There…there are so many of them; the one unit we have is under attack! Miss Cecile, what happens now?!"

The kneeling woman tried to tug the hysterical crying man off the floor. Exasperation mixed with pity as the calmer scientist looked to the brunet pilot and slowly explained, "There's nothing we can do now, Suzaku. We don't have the resources to handle this on our own. The Black Knights have the Lancelot; the only thing we can do is stay safe until reinforcements arrive."

Zero smirked again. It seemed this woman had some common sense. Yes, it was better to stay out of his way…

"There must be something we can do!" Suzaku yelled—then dashed foolishly towards the throng of twisting Knightmares.

Lelouch's smirk fell. "No, you idiot!" he screamed, instinctively thrusting his own Knightmare Frame between his lover and said lover's imminent death. "Do you want to die?!" There went the protocol of not showing special favoritism towards a foe.

Suzaku stumbled back from the Burai's sudden appearance, then squinted at the cockpit. There was something about that pilot's deep, echoing voice. Recognition surged and he yelled in disbelief, "Zero?! Why would you…?"

"Yeah, why would you save _him_?" Tamaki shouted, similar calls erupting from other Black Knights members.

The head rebel swallowed, but his voice was clear and confident when he addressed his underlings. "You'd rather him die? His is still a life worth protecting."

"'Worth' on what scale?!" the redhead demanded. "He's a worthless traitor in my book! He deserves to die!"

Zero clenched a fist and snarled, "'Worth' on _my_ scale!" A hush fell over the entire laboratory; the black-haired teen noticed how Suzaku himself seemed to have stopped breathing. Taking a deep breath, the masked rebel calmly explained, "That aside, Kururugi is Japanese. We are fighting _Britannia_. We are fighting _for Japan_. You would target a misguided Japanese adolescent?" He paused for a moment to let his words sink in before adding, "I didn't go through the trouble of saving him from execution so I could kill him myself. If you want to continue to bear the title of Black Knight, then you will follow my orders and let Kururugi live. _Do not question me!_ "

There was another long silence after that intense outburst. Hesitantly, Ohgi spoke up in support of his leader. "I think Zero did the right thing. There's no point in killing if we don't have to—and besides, like Zero said, Kururugi _is_ Japanese."

"Yeah, but I bet he wishes he was Britannian!" Tamaki sneered. He would not have dared to utter such words in response to Zero, but he felt comfortable tossing them out after Ohgi's input.

"That's enough!" Zero snapped. "Hurry, before the Britannian military arrives. We're not here to discuss Kururugi. Carry on with the mission!"

Suzaku looked quizzically at the Black Knights leader's Knightmare, still trying to understand why the enemy would save him. Just because he was Japanese? The brunet didn't buy it. "Why are you here then?!" he shouted, voice barely audible over the renewed sound of clanging metal.

Zero sighed before projecting his answer. "Isn't it obvious? We're here to destroy the Lancelot. It's caused me enough problems. But don't worry; we know you are innocent and you have my word that you and your fellow innocents will not be harmed." It was doubtful Suzaku would trust the word of a wanted terrorist, but the former prince still wanted to throw it out there. Just in case.

Green eyes widened in disbelief, but Lelouch knew those eyes well and could pinpoint the relief and gratitude swirling in their depths. Suzaku would always choose the path with the least amount of bloodshed, and if it meant sacrificing a high-class military project for the sake of saving lives, then so be it.

His white-haired coworker, however, seemed to disagree. "Not my Lancelot!" he cried again, waving his arms emphatically. "You can have Kururugi, just spare Lancelot!"

" _Lloyd!_ " the blue-haired woman shrieked, twisting his ear. "You know we would never give up Suzaku! Why do you still say these sorts of things?" She turned to the Japanese teen with a wide, out-of-place smile (considering the circumstances) and reassured him, "Don't worry, Suzaku. Lloyd just needs to work on his manners. You're completely safe with us." She continued to beam at the brunet, who looked a bit uncomfortable regardless.

Resting his head on his palm, Zero surveyed the scene on the floor. _Hm, so that must be Lloyd Asplund. He's the one who created that monstrosity. Should we capture him? His talents would certainly be useful, but he works for Britannia now. He can't be trusted. I could always use my Geass, but the Black Knights would be too suspicious._

"Zero!" Kallen's voice jerked him back to the main mission. "The lookouts just warned us that Britannian infantry are headed this way. What should we do?"

The masked leader cast a critical eye over the misshapen heap of twisted white Lancelot. It wasn't _utterly_ destroyed, but it was certainly not in any kind of working condition. It would take weeks, if not months, for Asplund and his team to repair it—especially with some of their research stations and spare Knightmare equipment smashed as well. A sizeable amount of data was lost. That was good enough. Though it meant the Black Knights had a narrower time window to advance their plans, it was doable. With their mission objective achieved, they could afford to retreat. "Withdraw! Follow your assigned escape routes." He left last, keeping one eye trained on Suzaku until he disappeared from sight.

* * *

Yawning, the violet-eyed teen collapsed into his seat Monday morning. He'd spent nearly all weekend with the Black Knights. Saturday was spent fine-tuning his strategies and readying everything for the operation; Sunday was spent putting the plan into effect. School just seemed such a waste of time when compared to his exploits as masked rebellion leader Zero, Britannia's greatest threat. He'd been lucky his latest plan had gone off without attracting unnecessary complications, though he was still confused by Suzaku's role in all this.

The more he thought about it, though, the more it seemed to make sense. It wasn't like Suzaku accompanied the Advanced Special Envoy Engineering Corp to the front lines. It must have just been bad luck that he was working that day in close proximity to that accursed white Knightmare. Really, it was Lelouch's own fault for attacking "behind the scenes."

Drumming his fingers on his desk, he stared out the window, deep in thought. Of course Suzaku would not be in class today; after yesterday's stunts, Lelouch doubted his lover would be free of the military for at least a week. It hurt knowing that, but it was a sacrifice necessary in bringing about the downfall of Britannia. At least his last meeting with Suzaku was memorable… Cheeks heating up at the vivid memories, he scolded himself internally and willed himself to calm down. When he was reasonably sure he wasn't blushing, he chanced a look around—just to be sure nobody had seen. He was met with open, horrified stares and mocking laughter from his classmates.

Wait. That didn't seem right.

Even if he was caught blushing, his schoolmates wouldn't react like _this_. Did he have rice on his face again? But no, he hadn't eaten Japanese food for breakfast…

"Hey, Lamperouge. Do your pants feel empty without Kururugi's hand down there?" More derisive laughter erupted from the students in the room.

Lelouch felt his pulse begin to race. "What are you talking about?" the black haired teen asked with forced casualty, attempting to stay calm and in control, to appear clueless about the topic under discussion. He was relieved he managed to answer in a steady voice, not a quiver present to give anything away. How in the world did his classmates know about him and Suzaku…? They'd done everything in their power to keep their relationship secret. True, it was bound to get out sooner or later—especially as they were two of the most talked about boys in school even _before_ they were a collective 'it'—but how in the world were they discovered?

Nervous sweat started to slide down the back of his neck. Trying not to panic, his mind raced through all the possibilities. Where had he not covered his tracks? When it came to that, if his class knew about his feelings for Suzaku, what else could they possibly know? About his Geass power, about his identity as Zero—or even his identity as an outcast prince of the empire? He had to figure out how much they knew before he could deal with the problem.

The students tittered among themselves, ignoring his question.

Frowning, Lelouch searched for anyone brave enough to meet his stare. Rivalz held eye-contact for a second, then closed his eyes and slowly shook his head in either warning or disappointment. The raven-haired teen lifted an eyebrow at this odd behavior but figured he could confront his friend about it later—preferably after he understood the situation. Moving on, his gaze locked with Shirley's. She nodded to him once, disengaging herself from a conversation with her friend Sophie, before making her way across the room to him.

"Is it true?" she asked, her words escaping in a strangled whisper.

Lelouch continued frowning, but his tone was civil when he responded. "Is _what_ true? How can I answer if I don't know what you're talking about?"

Shirley sniffled and leaned closer for privacy, her red-orange hair spilling over her shoulders. Her face was drawn, almost as if she was dreading what was coming next. "I just heard from Sophie that you and Suzaku are…erm… _that way_. Together. Are you with him, Lelou?" She made sure to keep her voice low, ever respectful of Lelouch's private life, but some surrounding students managed to overhear anyway. They stopped what they were doing, wanting to hear Lelouch defend himself.

The exiled prince paled at the question, purple eyes catching sight of the eavesdroppers. "Shirley. I, um…can we talk about this later?" He shifted in his seat but tried to look like he wasn't fidgeting; Lelouch Lamperouge did not fidget. "Perhaps during the Council meeting today?" he suggested, almost desperate for the current conversation to end. He needed time to plan what he was going to say.

Shirley stared at him for a long moment, her green eyes—not as dark and lovely as Suzaku's—now brimming with tears. She searched his gaze before surprising him with, "I see." Offering him a watery smile of encouragement, she took a hasty step back to give him distance; she knew how he hated having his personal space invaded. Holding her hands up to her heart against the sudden onslaught of pain in her chest, she looked down at the floor; the realization that her longtime crush loved someone else was deeply upsetting. And to be looked over for a guy, at that! She hiccupped, closing her eyes and squeezing tears from the corners. It was hard to keep smiling for his sake when it felt like her own heart was splitting in two.

"I'm sorry, Shirley," Lelouch murmured, at a loss about what to do for her. She was one of his good friends, after all, and he didn't want to see her hurt. It was inevitable, though, when looking at her feelings for him and his feelings for Suzaku. He would never be hers while Suzaku was available.

The onlookers gaped at each other. They'd heard the question; Shirley's reaction—as well as Lelouch's apology—depicted a clear answer. There was no public confession of love, but the infamous pretty boy's words and regretful tone were all the answer needed to pinpoint the truth. Lelouch Lamperouge had, in a roundabout way, admitted to dating the Eleven, Kururugi Suzaku.

Lelouch held back a groan. How in the world did this secret leak out? Nunnally was the only one they'd told, but she would never betray her brother's confidence. Sayoko had most likely figured it out, but she knew how to keep secrets. Shirley had said she'd heard the news from Sophie, but where had _Sophie_ picked up this information? And what about the rest of his class? Scowling, he turned back to the window. He didn't want to deal with their judgmental stares, and what was worse, he had to face this by himself. The exiled prince reminded himself that it was because of his own efforts that Suzaku was not in school today to share his shame—but on second thought, maybe it was better this way. His lover suffered enough at the hands of racist Britannians on school grounds without having to deal with the current drama; it would be best if he returned to school after all the initial hype died down.

"The Culture Club," sounded a voice from behind him.

Lelouch whipped around to face the speaker, violet eyes landing on his friend and gambling partner, Rivalz. "Excuse me?" he asked, his tone strained.

The blue-haired boy chuckled awkwardly. "Well, you know the Student Council isn't the only group that meets in the Clubhouse Hall. Some of the students from the Culture Club stayed late on Friday to finish some kind of project…and well, they saw you and Suzaku on the staircase."

Violet eyes slipped shut at this tidbit of information, and an unbidden sigh escaped his lips. The Council meeting had ended early on Friday, and he and Suzaku had not exercised caution in their excitement to feel each other once they were finally—seemingly—alone. Normally, they'd wait until they were enclosed in the safety of Lelouch's bedroom before pawing at each other, but on Friday evening they were too desperate to rekindle contact after a long period apart—which they'd both blamed on Suzaku's military duties. Teenager hormones were wonderful motivators, but they scarcely led to good ideas in the long run.

Lelouch cursed to himself under his breath, berating himself for not protesting more at the time. He'd given in to Suzaku's advances on the grand staircase, submitting to his Japanese lover's charms, even knowing they were in an exposed environment. He was smarter than that, but Suzaku's hands on him had felt too good to ignore, too good to push away.

"They had a camera," Rivalz continued, completely oblivious to Lelouch's mounting rage and discomfort. "They thought it would be good blackmail, but one of them—I don't know who—blabbed and you know how word gets around here. There are a few copies of the photo floating around campus. I don't know how many, but there are enough that pretty much everyone has seen proof of…uh…you and Suzaku…um…fooling around. Anyone who hasn't seen it has heard about it, and well, there you have it."

Lelouch growled, "Let me see the picture!" His eyes flashed, and he had to actively prevent himself from enforcing the command with Geass. He didn't need the power this time to compel his friend; he needed to know what the blackmail image contained so he knew what he was up against. If he was lucky, maybe he could downplay its significance and try to pass something off as _looking_ like they were doing something scandalous. Even if everyone knew how he felt about Suzaku, maybe the rumors wouldn't be so extreme if he could gently nudge them in another direction.

Rivalz squeaked at his friend's understandably angry tone. "I don't know who has a copy," he mumbled, not meeting the black-haired teen's eye. "Are you…is it really true though?"

Lelouch had to work to keep himself under control. "Rivalz," he explained as painstakingly gently as he could, "Shirley just asked me that. I didn't explain anything to her. So can we _please_ discuss this later?" His tone booked no argument, and Rivalz only nodded. The ebony-haired teen supposed he could sympathize: his friend was shocked at the news and didn't know what to think anymore. Still, his own situation was far worse, and he had to think of himself first.

A shaking hand slid a facedown picture across Lelouch's desk. "Here, Lelou," Shirley offered; her eyes were red and puffy from crying. "Sophie had a copy, and I knew you'd want to see it. As painful as it is."

Lelouch blinked at her, speechless yet again. Shirley was clearly heartbroken over the news, but she was still putting him first. What had he done to gain such devotion? He squeezed her hand in silent thanks and slowly flipped the picture over, preparing himself for the worst. Rivalz and Shirley surrounded him, blocking his expression from the rest of their nosy classmates. Purple eyes scanned the photo and narrowed in displeasure; he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to avoid a headache. Of course. The picture showed the relationship for exactly what it was, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

The photograph portrayed a messy state of half-dressed boys—easily recognizable as Kururugi Suzaku and Lelouch Lamperouge—desperately clinging to each other on the grand staircase in the Clubhouse Hall. The Japanese was draped over the prince, pinning the slighter Britannian boy against the stair railing, his lips firmly attached to the raven-haired teen's neck. They were plastered against one another except for a gap between their groins, existing only so Suzaku had room to work his fingers. The tan soldier's hand had noticeably wriggled its way deep into the other's pants; his other hand was clutching the ebony hair at the back of the prince's nape. Lelouch's pants were gaping open, slung low on his hips, but Suzaku's hand inside there obscured anything too private from being displayed. Lelouch had, in turn, wrapped his arms around the Honorary Britannian's shoulders, fingers clenched in the brunet's uniform jacket. His head was thrown back, thin, black strands of hair flying, his own eyes squinted in pleasure. A mere slit of amethyst peered down at a head of brown hair. His mouth was open in a silent scream—or perhaps it was a moan—and it was obvious just what was putting such extreme emotion on his face.

That extreme emotion was meant to be for Suzaku's eyes only. The position showed the relationship for what it was. He had a public image to uphold, and the picture did a fine job of destroying it; he'd clearly lost control. It was easy to note who had whom up against the wall—or in this case, a stair railing—and just who was pulling the strings. It hurt the poor prince's pride when he thought about how he gave up precious control to Suzaku— _willingly_. His best friend was the only one he could trust, and their moment of intimacy was meant to stay between them. Instead, that private moment was laid bare for all to see, exposing personal feelings and hidden truths. Now everyone knew.

* * *

A moment. That was all he needed. Just long enough to gather his thoughts before the Student Council meeting. His limbs felt like deadweight as he slipped into the men's room; he managed to keep his stride graceful until he reached the far wall. Clutching the edges of a pristine white sink, he used it as support while he leaned towards the bathroom mirror. Slowly, Lelouch let his eyes flicker over his image, assessing the day's build-up of stress on his body. His shoulders were noticeably tense, and there was something missing in his expression—the gleam of cockiness in his eyes had dimmed somewhat in light of recent events. His brow was furrowed, and his lips were stretched in a thin line, turned down at the corners in an evident frown. Letting his eyes slip shut, he heaved a sigh and gripped the sink harder. He lowered his head, black bangs shielding his eyes.

He took another deep breath, then straightened and forced himself to meet his reflection's gaze. So what if people didn't understand what he had with Suzaku? He didn't care what other people thought anyway—not about things like this. Scowling, he turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on his face. As he was rubbing the sleeve of his uniform over his wet nose, it happened.

The electric lights flicked off, and the entire bathroom was thrown into pitch-black.

Lelouch's immediate reaction was to freeze and assess the situation. Before he could figure the cause ( _random blackout, a cut wire, someone accidentally hitting the light switch, someone_ _ **deliberately**_ _hitting the light switch…_ ) he was grabbed from behind in a death grip, arms locked like steel around his delicate neck. He tried to yell, but all that came out was a ragged choking sound; fingers automatically flew to tug at the offending limbs, but he was too weak to move them but an inch. The sudden darkness and pressure on his body were disorienting, and he felt dizzy at the sudden sensations; he couldn't remember how to breathe. Arms constricted tighter around his trachea in response to his flailing, making him choke more, and an elbow dug painfully into his bobbing Adam's apple.

Twisting his entire body around within the hold—on pure adrenaline—he managed to tilt his head in the direction he presumed lay his attacker's head. A sickly red glow burned to life in his left eye, its eerie light not doing much to penetrate the shadows, and he choked an order: " _Let go of me_." It was impossible to initiate eye-contact in total darkness—especially when he was being jostled about—so the command had no effect whatsoever. Geass was useless; without it, _he_ was powerless.

"What the hell was that?" exclaimed a voice near the prince's ear, naggingly familiar but for the panic and asphyxiation shutting down his brain.

Another body barreled into the locked duo, sending both the exiled prince and his first attacker to the floor. The solid hold around his neck loosened at the fall, and Lelouch, wheezing from the stranglehold, quickly took advantage of that to squirm his way to freedom.

"Fuck, moron!" griped the other person on the floor. "That was _me_ , not the traitor faggot!"

Lelouch frowned, his ears ringing at the harsh words. By that statement, he knew for sure why he was being targeted; his stomach dropped at the implications. It was all planned. He was in danger here; these people meant to seriously harm him. The voice bouncing off the walls was familiar, but he just couldn't place it. The only thing he could deduce was that it was masculine and most likely belonged to a classmate. It wasn't deep enough to belong to a full-grown man, so the probability of his attacker being a professor was slim to nothing. More likely, these people were students his own age; that made them more dangerous, in a way.

The tile floor was cold under his bare fingertips, and the sound of nearby scuffling was too close for comfort. Biting his lip, Lelouch worked on controlling his cough; his neck was surely bruised, and he was still finding it difficult to inhale and exhale. After a few gasping moments, he coached himself on breathing slowly through his nose. If he could just stay quiet until he reached the bathroom door—if he could manage to not draw attention to himself—

Another youngish male voice sounded from somewhere above and to the left of him. "Sorry! I can't see in the dark, y'know. Why'd you shut the lights anyhow?!"

The first boy growled. "So _he_ can't see our faces. Are you _stupid?_ " There was some rustling, and then a bang and a yelp as the first attacker shuffled to his feet, the soles of his shoes squeaking on the newly-cleaned floor—and then immediately tripped over the crawling getaway prince, knocking the wind out of the weaker boy. "Aha!" he whispered triumphantly, grabbing hold of a spindly ankle. "I found the bitch, so let's hurry up! This place is too public; we need to move before anyone walks in on this!"

"Hold him in place. I got the blindfold!" exclaimed the proud second attacker.

Lelouch winced as someone grabbed his hair and yanked him backwards. An aching pain radiated from his lower back—a courtesy of being stepped on. He opened his mouth to scream, but a thick gag quickly muffled his shrieked protest. He sank his teeth into the offending wad of cloth, trying to jerk away from the fingers brushing against his head. Thin strands of hair tangled with the knotted strings holding the gag in place; said strings cut forcefully into the corners of his lips, biting into his skin all the way around his skull. Saliva pooled under his tongue and dribbled out his mouth, soaking the gag. Simultaneously, Lelouch felt a coarse, burlap cloth press against his eyes and stretch around his head, rendering his Geass power worthless. His heartbeat quickened and, panicking, the former prince instinctively tried to claw the two boys off of him; it was a futile effort.

For the first time, the original attacker bothered to speak directly to his victim. "Don't bother struggling, Lamperouge. Everyone on campus knows a five-year-old little girl could beat you up." His tone carried mocking amusement, and he hauled the defenseless Britannian boy to his feet by the hair.

The weaker teenager tensed and gritted his teeth, feeling some of his hair pull out from the roots. His arms were yanked roughly behind his back, joints popping in his shoulders from the harsh treatment. Lelouch hated how they had him cornered. Most of the student body had been avoiding him since first period when he'd inadvertently admitted he was, more or less, in love with Suzaku. Even Shirley and Rivalz were keeping their distance, not even wanting to accompany him to the Council meeting. Though they'd stood by him in the morning, they both needed time to adjust and think before the upcoming discussion; Lelouch understood their need to compose themselves privately, Shirley especially. He'd needed that peace and solitude himself. The whole situation concerning Suzaku had wound him up into a tight ball of anxiety, and he knew he wasn't the only one affected by the stress. But to think that some of his schoolmates would actually jump him like this…

 _They must have been waiting for me to be completely alone_ , the exiled prince thought to himself. He cringed, feeling lightheaded at being completely trapped. No Geass, no nearby friends to help, no physical strength or stamina to fight, no way to talk himself out of this one or play mind games…

Wholly bound and helpless, he was utterly screwed any which way he thought about it. His blood chilled, and jabs of icy fear stabbed his spine, almost paralyzing him. Shaking as they were, his legs could barely hold him up. He staggered when hands roughly pushed him forward. Sightless eyes widened uselessly behind the blindfold: judging by the number of hands on him, there were at least _three_ attackers, not two like he'd previously concluded. His head buzzed at this new information.

With a creak, the men's room door swung open and the bound schoolboy was pushed out of the bathroom; a hint of light invaded his eyesight now that he was out of the pitch-black of the bathroom, though it did nothing to help him regain his sight since the blindfold was still secure on his head. Without warning, his assailants started dragging him in some unknown direction. It took about ten minutes for them to reach their secret destination—Lelouch was meticulously counting the seconds in his head—and not once did he hear anyone who could offer him help. Campus seemed to be deserted. Where were all the clubs? Surely they weren't all canceled; it was the beginning of the week! Trying to scream for help around the gag resulted in harsher shoves. Dread and anticipation churned in his stomach. The combined strength of the attackers swept him along; his lower arms burned behind his back from the might of their grip. He had no choice but to be hauled away, even though his mind was screaming bloody murder at every forced step.

The loud bang of a door closing called his thoughts back to the real world, and he was violently pushed to lie facedown on a rough, wooden bench. The room smelled horribly of sweat and dirt, and there was the faint sensation of moisture in the air. Lelouch grimaced at the thought of all those germs spreading to his clothes and skin. It wasn't hard to figure out that they'd dragged him to the boy's locker room, a place both deserted and last on the list of places the finicky OCD-student would ever willingly go. Since it was after school, no one would need the gym lockers. Everyone knew that sports clubs had their own private changing rooms not associated with those needed for physical education classes. A cold feeling of hopelessness washed over him, and Lelouch's racing thoughts circled his mind in a frenzy: _This is it, then. They took away all my options. I'm completely at their mercy, and no one's coming to help me. There's no way out of this!_

Lost in thought, he was jerked back to reality by a crushing weight on his back, once more squeezing the breath out of him. His chest almost caved under the pressure, and he gasped for air around the gag cloth as black spots swam across his limited vision. He felt two sets of hands wrench his arms and legs around the wooden seat bench. His arms were brutally looped around the bench as if in a forced sort of hug, and his wrists were tied together under the seat with a tight cord. Made to straddle the bench, his legs were yanked around the seat similar to how his arms were positioned; because his legs did not bend the same way, the sides of the bench rode into the underside of his knee and the pads of his feet pressed together underneath the seat. His ankles, too, were tied with a thick cord. Unceremoniously, after Lelouch was completely tied down, the weight vanished off his back and the gag, removed. His mouth was too dry, and he started hacking.

Once he'd gotten himself under control, he waited for his salivary glands to work again and spat, "What is the meaning of this?!" His tone earned him a sharp slap in the face, but he only grunted and kept right on complaining. Fear made him angry, and helplessness made him desperate. "Unhand me at once!" His tone was a bit more panicky than he'd have liked to use under normal circumstances, but these were anything but. Lelouch was used to being on top of things to an insane degree; never in his life had he felt more on bottom. His body was burning now; the hot, damp air was stifling his lungs. Eyebrows drawing together, he warned in a low tone, "You're making a mistake—"

The leader laughed. "Right. We already went over this, pretty boy. Your physical strength is nothing to be admired, and we're not afraid of that Eleven boyfriend you're so proud of. There's _nothing_ you can do." The speaker ended with a stinging slap to the normally arrogant teen's bottom to prove his point. "We thought it bad enough that you stuck up for that Eleven trash when he first came here, but now you're sleeping with that piece of shit? What the fuck is the matter with you, man? How could you become Kururugi's little bitch?"

The up-'til-now silent attacker joined in with, "It would be one thing if _you_ were using _him_. As an Eleven, he's just a sex toy for your pleasure…but it seems to us that you're taking it up the _ass_ from Kururugi! How humiliating! Don't you have any self-respect as a Britannian?!" The third boy's tone sounded genuinely appalled at Lelouch's behavior, as if he couldn't think of anything viler than treating an Eleven as an equal. He hovered over the helpless victim and spat.

Lelouch sensed a presence directly above him right before a sticky glob of spit landed in his hair. It oozed downwards, catching on his earlobe and leaving a warm, disgusting trail of wetness down the side of his face. He shuddered, shaking his head to try to fling off the spittle, and his heart plummeted as he instinctively pulled at his bindings. They were strong, and bile rose in his throat at the thought of being trapped. He'd always valued control over anything else, and to be at someone else's mercy…

Being powerless was terrifying to a normal person, but for him it was simply bloodcurdling. He listened to his assaulters with half an ear, already predicting the racist dribble that would spill from their mouths. "Don't _you_ have any self-respect as human beings?! Untie me, dammit!" he demanded angrily, not pleading at all. Pride wouldn't allow for begging.

The other boys chuckled at his show of defiance. His hot breath wafting over the bound youth, the leader of the group leaned down to whisper in the prince's ear, "No. Not until you understand what you're doing wrong, Lamperouge." He snorted. "You're still under the mistaken impression that it's all right for that Eleven filth to touch you. Oh, how the mighty have fallen!"

Lelouch frowned, trying to draw a connection. These people obviously hated his Japanese lover; had he come across them often before? It was definitely a possibility, considering the student population size at Ashford Academy. "By saying this, are you the ones who sprayed Suzaku's gym uniform with graffiti? Are you the ones who bully—" he asked, voice starting to shake as it sunk in that he was really and truly trapped with no way out. His mind conjured up an image of Suzaku's normal tormentors, but something about the voices didn't seem right… Or at least, not all of—

Seconds later, the theory faded from his mind like chaffsmoke. He had something more important to focus on. His skin crawled as he felt his attackers' invasive hands start to roam over his body. Even through his clothes, their touches burned. How dare they; he belonged to Suzaku! He'd made that _perfectly_ clear. That, of course, was the entire reason he'd been dragged there, strapped down and stripped of all defenses on a wooden bench in the first place.

"You should be worrying about yourself more than your little boyfriend's clothes, bitch." The harsh reprimand grated against the former prince's ears with a sense of foreboding, the words warning him of callous punishment yet to come.

There was the sound of rustling, and then a pinging sound of something metal against the wet, tiled floor. "Whoops, dropped the knife," drawled one of the boys in a too-innocent tone.

Lelouch froze up. Wasn't it about now that someone—say, Suzaku—should miraculously appear and save him?

But nobody came.

"If you let that fucking Eleven touch you like this, it's only fair you let _us_. Besides, we're _all Britannians_ here, aren't we?" The proud, enthusiastic third attacker explained, as if their shared nationality made it all right. He squeezed Lelouch's limp member, hissing as it didn't harden under his touch. "Maybe he really _is_ defective if he can only get it up for an Eleven." His tone was insulted, as if he couldn't believe the nerve Lamperouge displayed to respond to a lowly _Eleven_ but not to _him_ , a high-class pureblood _Britannian_.

"Hmph. Lamperouge's a fag, at least, so as guys we fit half the criteria for his _preferences_ ," sneered the leader. With a sniff, he ordered, "Keep working on him. He'll stir down there soon enough if we keep at it."

Unable to hold back another moan, Lelouch played it to his advantage. Mentally smirking, he gasped, "O-ohhh, _Suzaku_!"

Immediately, the leader spanked him and snapped, "Don't you dare! _We're_ fucking touching you this time, Lamperouge. Not that fucking Eleven!" Getting his obvious anger under control, he mocked, "How does it feel, bitch, to know your body no longer only belongs to Kururugi? How do you like the lesson we're teaching you?"

Lelouch clenched his teeth, sweat pouring down his face. If only he didn't have that accursed blindfold on, he could use his Geass! He had never hated his power limitations more; he had never _needed_ Geass like he needed it now. These classmates of his were not skilled soldiers following orders in a political chain of command; they were impulsive, racist teenagers acting on their own whims and their own skewed set of values. The fact that they were downplaying his relationship to a merely physical union was infuriating; of course they would never understand that there was emotional reason behind his body's response to his Japanese lover. Indignant rage bubbled to the surface, once again overpowering fear, and he growled, "No! I only want Suzaku! Not because he's Japanese—"

The leader gave him a warning squeeze, relishing in his pained hiss. "Rule number one, Lamperouge. You _don't_ use the J-word in our presence. It's _Eleven_."

" _Japanese!_ " Lelouch insisted, more incensed at how his own people could be so ignorant than at how they treated him.

"Maybe we should gag him again?"

"Nah, I want to hear Kururugi's princess scream. Get the bat; I'll keep the knife."

At the mention of another weapon, Lelouch couldn't hold back a whimper. He was truly trapped, and his body was spiraling into numb shock; he still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that this was really happening—to him, of all people! To him, who thrived on control! Where it wasn't numb, his body hurt from being stretched and tied in position; he was humiliated by the nakedness in his lower regions. He trembled as much as his tight bindings would allow. He could _really_ go for a miracle right about now.

What in the world were his classmates planning? Did he really deserve this just for falling for Suzaku, Japanese though he was? No, what he and Suzaku felt for each other could never be considered wrong. Steeling his resolve, he rubbed his face against the seat of the bench, trying to loosen the blindfold. The burlap cloth they'd used to hide his eyes was coarse and itchy; intentionally shifting it around his face made his skin burn. If he could get it off, then he could use his Geass and extract some revenge on these pathetic degenerates.

The blindfold was tied too tightly to come off. Lelouch cursed under his breath (" _Shit!_ "), then cried out as he felt a thick metal stick strike his backside. Sweat slid down his face as he realized the implications; he began to struggle again with renewed determination. His attackers had raided an aluminum baseball bat from the gym supply closet. If they hit him with full force, they could do enough damage to permanently injure him—or even kill him. They could break his spine; he could really die here!

The frantic teen thrashed wildly on the bench, his body again falling fit to the basic 'fight or flight' state of mind. The adrenaline rush might actually have done him some good, had he not been so thoroughly tied down. He _needed_ to free himself, to make it to safety—make it to Suzaku. If only he could get access to his cell phone, he could call for help. His friends on the Student Council would never stand for this abuse, and if anything, the Black Knights would never ignore a distress call from Zero. He'd figure out how to explain the whole 'Britannian schoolboy' thing later if it meant he could escape with his life intact; right now, his number one priority _had_ to be survival.

The gun he normally toted around was hidden in his school jacket alongside his cell phone, but it was useless to him with his hands tied. How could people be so cruel—why were _Britannians_ so cruel? "This," Lelouch growled, voice ringing around the empty shower stalls and lockers, "is why I hate Britannia! Your entire attitude and mindset—that's what I want to destroy…!" His words were like fire on his tongue, but he was the only one who seemed burned—

–his classmates only laughed, probably thinking his passionate speech some kind of joke and forced bravado.

"If you don't want us to bash your skull in, you'll do exactly as we say," murmured the leader, his voice suave. "You can make this easier on yourself by renouncing Kururugi."

Lelouch's breath caught in his throat. He sweated and swallowed, but his voice was strong as he announced, "I'll _never_ forsake Suzaku!"

The leader snorted. "Then you're bringing this on yourself. While you lie there and take it, remember that you could've chosen the lesser beatdown."

Lelouch forced himself to calm down and take a deep breath, his concentration gathering in a last-ditch effort to save himself. Before his attackers could move, he spoke, his voice ringing with a shadow of superiority. "You don't want to do this." Words were his specialty, his weapon of choice. They'd taken and kept the gag out; he _had_ to try to convince them to turn back now _before_ they hit him more with the baseball bat. Some damage had already been done, but he couldn't let it get any further. Not while he still had a mind and a mouth to speak it.

"Think of what would happen to your reputations if word got out about this." No matter that he didn't know who they were at the moment, he—or someone—would find out. "Is this what you want to be—the kind of people who have nothing better to do than bully others for not sharing their values? Those kinds of people are pathetic." The silver-tongued prince switched tactics then. "Beating me won't accomplish anything. You have no objective to achieve here. What purpose do you think this will serve?" Lelouch paused a moment to let his words sink in, then drove the point home with, "Nothing will change by your actions today; no matter how hard you try, it's impossible to change the world."

One of the boys snorted, "We're not trying to change the world—just _you_." The others laughed their support.

"Pretty little speech, Lamperouge, but it didn't do you any good," said the original speaker, clearly amused. Cheering, he yelled, "C'mon, guys, let's stop wasting time!"

Understanding his last tactic failed, the prince bucked on the bench as much as his bonds allowed. His speech hadn't affected them at all; they'd even had the audacity to _laugh_ at him. Though it was much less severe than the physical and mental torture they'd inflicted upon him, Lelouch was more outraged that they'd laughed at him in his element. He stilled after a few moments of pointless thrashing, drained to the bone; as expected, he'd gotten nowhere. He clenched his eyes shut in fearful understanding of their show of power, despite the fact that he couldn't see past the blindfold anyway.

All three sneered at Lelouch's predicament as they continuously tortured and mocked him in various ways. The Britannian victim feared for his life every second, it was so bad.

What were they going to do to him in the end? If one thing could be said of his attackers, it was that they knew how to administer hurt; their impactful, palpable blows brought him indescribable pain. Biting his lip, carefully avoiding his tongue that time, he tried determinedly not to give in to their satisfaction. They wanted to hear him scream? Forget it. He only screamed on one man's orders, and unfortunately that person wasn't present at the moment.

Instead he retreated further into himself as a coping mechanism, dreaming up diabolical ideas for revenge. _I'll hold you at gunpoint and—no, I don't even need to do that, with my Geass. I'll make you fight each other to the death. I'll kill the last one standing myself. I'll make it slow and painful and a thousand times worse than what you're doing to me._

The boys mock-sighed amongst themselves. The leader launched into another speech with, "What an embarrassment to all Britannians! What we're doing to you, Lamperouge, is _nothing_ compared to what _you_ did. You dating that Eleven is the biggest insult to our nation, the biggest middle finger 'fuck you' to Britannia's superiority." He laughed cruelly. "Britannians and Elevens just don't mix, you see? Everyone knows that. You must've just forgot. Well, we'll have to reinstate some good ol' Britannian pride into you, won't we?" They all spat on his face, letting him know just what a dirty little traitor they thought of him.

Lelouch didn't answer, knowing full well he'd never be proud to be a Britannian. This latest string of events confirmed it even further. He was almost numb to the racist talk by now; he'd heard it all before. His face scrunched at the sick slide of their spit on his skin. Pulse racing, he endured their antics. A bitter, overwhelming swell of frustration and misery rose up in his chest when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his jacket's inner pocket against his breast. Someone was trying to contact _him_ , and he would have laughed at the irony if it wasn't so damn depressing and hopeless. He bit his lip. _Maybe the Black Knights will pay a visit to you in the middle of the night_ , he raged inwardly at the elitist Britannian attackers.

"You know," the leader continued, his tone mockingly thoughtful, "for someone so smart and popular, Lamperouge, you make some pretty stupid mistakes." He slapped Lelouch across the face again, meaning one of the others must be working the bat. "Don't give me that 'Kururugi's an Honorary Britannian' bullshit. He's still just a fucking Eleven!"

Lelouch choked on a growl. _I'll make you get on your knees in front of Suzaku, where you belong. You can beg us both for forgiveness. I'll videotape your humiliation and put it on the Internet. Then I'll kill you in your sleep. Maybe I'll videotape that, too, so I can always relive the glory of revenge._

"Ha, you'll need to borrow your sister's wheelchair once we're done with you! Hope she's got a spare. That nurse of yours—that _Eleven_ nurse—is going to have her hands full, what with both of you having broken legs," the beastly sidekick from the bathroom jeered.

The victimized teen wanted to curl into a fetal position but couldn't quite manage that thanks to his bonds. At the mention of his sister, blood roared in his ears. Once more, he tried thrashing about in vain hope that the cords would break; they didn't. He couldn't contain a moan of despair. His attackers had kept their word thus far about not bashing in his skull; they'd mainly focused on hitting his lower body. Nothing under his waist was safe. His buttocks, thighs, and legs bore the brunt of the others' fury, and he couldn't control the tears that still streamed down his face from the sheer amount of pain.

Every so often, he almost passed out from the overwhelming hurt and degradation. The worst part was knowing that his attackers were trying to inflict the same pain on him that his dear sister suffered. Would they go for his eyes next? Would they cause permanent damage? If he was rendered unable to walk, how could he help take care of Nunnally? For that matter, how could he continue his public appearances as Zero?

As the beating carried on, his strands of thought shriveled into incoherency. Lelouch may have normally been a calm, quiet person and an absolutely excellent strategist, but he was—for all intents and purposes—completely human. All his plans had backfired, his options, nonexistent. He was backed into a corner with no way out, and his life was on the line. He was not invincible; he was human: thus he panicked and cried just as anyone would in his situation. A fiery longing to see Nunnally, to see Suzaku, to see his other friends, and to see his rebellion through to the end engulfed his chest; the weight of his despair crushed him more effectively than any of his attackers could manage. His pupils dilated behind the blindfold, and his body twitched and shuddered under those hands and weapons. He could do nothing but lie there and take it, could do nothing but wait for the burning pain and torture to be over.

Finally, after an indeterminable amount of time (Lelouch had understandably lost count of the seconds this time), the abusive students grew bored of smacking their new toy and relented their attack. Only to take another approach and violently mark him with an '11,' taunting him about being the property of a Number. With that said and done, the attackers flung the knife somewhere on the other side of the room; Lelouch heard it clang against the wall quite a few feet away.

The abusive boys started discussing amongst themselves whether or not to punish Lelouch sexually.

Lelouch swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he listened. His mind whirled. _NO! Nonononono! Oh god, anything but that—I just want this to be over! As if I'd ever_ _ **let**_ _anyone but Suzaku touch me!_ Sweat dotted his brow and his stomach muscles clenched painfully, but he knew, when it came down to it, that there were no viable escape routes. He'd already gone over all the possibilities, done everything he could; it didn't keep him from replaying different scenarios in his head. The chess-strategist only needed one missing piece. If only Suzaku was there, if only he could get one hand free, if only someone would walk through the door and help him, if only his Geass worked without direct eye contact—if only his classmates weren't violent racists…

Deciding on a compromise, the three boys surrounded Lelouch again and gave him new orders.

Pursing his lips, the exiled prince shook his head and refused. As they threatened him with worse torture, he reluctantly relented and retreated further into himself. _Maybe I'll Geass you to service customers in a whorehouse. The only ones who should kill are those prepared to be killed. The only ones who should take sex are those prepared to give sex._

In the back of his mind, Lelouch was grateful to his past experience with Suzaku—he'd gained skill. At the same time, he was devastated that he was being forced to use said skill on someone other than his self-appointed lover. He felt a burning shame about betraying Suzaku, even though he basically had no choice. His mind raced with mental apologies to his lover. _I don't mean it. I don't mean any of this. I just need to live._

Numb all over, Lelouch robotically went through the actions. Still filled with internal shame, powerful fury consumed him simultaneously, allowing him to get through this stage of torture. _Just you wait. As soon as this is over and I pin you down, I'm going to make you…_

"Hot damn, the bitch is good at that," sighed the leader. "I guess the fucking Eleven is good for something after all—if he taught Lamperouge how to... Anyway, dudes, I'm spent; want to go grab a bite to eat?" Seconds of silence ensued. Heaving an exasperated sigh, he continued, "Look, even if he can get free, he won't be able to walk. He hasn't seen our faces, so let's just get out of here before someone comes looking for him." There were murmurs of agreement before the leader menacingly said, "Wait, just one more thing."

"Huh, what are you doing? I thought you said we were done with the bat."

The prince started to shake at the mention of it.

"We are. I just want to make sure he doesn't start screaming for help as soon as we leave. Not that anyone should hear him anyway, but just in case…"

The aluminum bat made hard contact with the back of Lelouch's skull; he was lost in a world of darkness as, a minute later, the locker room door slammed shut and the carefree laughter of three Ashford Academy students rang through the gym.

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 **-End Chapter-**

A/N: A fair amount of the last scene _was_ cut or generalized in order to bring down the rating. The non-watered-down version is on my AO3 account, if you were interested in the full picture.


	2. Guilt and Fear

Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass. I do not make profit from writing this fanfiction.

 **An unrated version of this story is on my AO3 account (NeoDiji) and linked on my Tumblr (NeoDiji).**

A/N: Chapter 2 is the same regardless of where it is posted.

Thank you ever so much to all those who have reviewed, favorited, followed, etc. :D

Chapter 2 is largely unchanged from its original version, for those who remember the story from several years back.

No active trigger happenings, but references to what happened in Chapter 1 (so still, beware violence and gore, sensitive situations, adult material overall). Nothing that needed to be watered-down, though.

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Chapter Two – Guilt and Fear

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Suzaku yawned. After the absolute chaos of the day before, the lab was extremely boring. Lloyd and Cecile were frantically dashing about making phone calls, calling in favors, ordering equipment, doing paperwork… Suzaku did all he could to help, but he was a pilot, not a researcher. He knew nothing about the development of Knightmares, and as an Eleven he had no connections he could call on for assistance. In short, he felt useless. That was why, even in a stressful environment, he was bored. The blue and gray walls of the lab space they rented at the university were enough to lull him to sleep, but the others' constant activity kept jerking his consciousness back to the matter at hand.

The Lancelot was wrecked. A small part of him was thankful he wasn't inside the machine at the time; a larger part reminded him he could have prevented this if he had been. At the thought, a sharp bout of shame flowed through his veins. He hunched over, arms wrapped protectively around his middle as if to hold himself together, and he had to blink back the burning liquid guilt that pooled in his eyes. He was to blame for everything; no wonder Lloyd wasn't speaking to him. Cecile did her best to assuage his self-doubt, but he stubbornly held onto the idea that it was entirely his fault. If only he could have been faster…better…

"Stop worrying so much, Suzaku," Cecile comforted, dropping into a seat next to him. She was often the voice of reason among the three of them, the only one capable of balancing intelligence and feelings. Acting as the link between the eccentric scientist and emotional teen pilot, she took all angles into consideration; Lloyd had no heart while Suzaku relied solely on his. The problem with Suzaku was that he could be totally irrational.

The boy didn't respond.

Cecile tilted her head at her younger coworker, mouth drawn and eyes dim as she tried to think what to say, how to explain and get through to the boy. Finally, she let her eyes slide from his slumped posture; her gaze landed on the yellow and white machine rubble on the floor one story below. The lab they rented had to have a high-vaulted ceiling in order to accommodate the Knightmare's impressive height. Acknowledging Suzaku's worries seemed like the best way to go. Her voice was light and clear when she spoke. "Yes, this is a major setback, but it's not the end of the world. The only one who got hurt was the Lancelot, and that's just a machine. That man Zero kept his word about not harming anyone."

The seventeen-year-old shrugged, a sullen "I guess so" falling from his lips. He remembered how Zero had called off one of the Black Knights who'd wanted to kill him—and how Zero himself had prevented him from rushing to his death. On top of that, the masked terrorist had even _defended him_ with a speech, touching on his Japanese heritage and proclaiming him 'worthwhile' because of it. Did that mean the masked terrorist really did believe himself to be the ally of justice, and all the casualties he'd caused so far had been mistakes? But if such was the case, if Zero wanted to change the world for the better, he should have started with less violent means. Suzaku groaned, shaking his head. The only thing he was sure of was that Zero was a complicated individual.

The masked terrorist wasn't the only one weighing on his mind, though. "But what about Lloyd," Suzaku protested.

"Don't worry about him," Cecile said, cutting him off sharply. "He's just whining like a child because his favorite toy was crushed."

The teen frowned. "I wish there was more I could do to help."

His coworker smiled gently at him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Suzaku, you're right. You're a pilot. Without a Knightmare, you don't have a job to do here. Why don't you go back to school for the time being? I'll come for you if we run into any problems we need your help with, all right?"

Suzaku clenched his jaw, weighing his options. If he returned to Ashford Academy, then he'd feel like he was running away from his responsibilities to the military. On the other hand, if he left the lab, then he could see all his friends on the Student Council—most importantly, Lelouch. His facial features relaxed as he imagined his lover. It was mid-afternoon by this point, so Lelouch would probably be complaining about something to Milly in the Student Council room, probably protesting some new project of hers. Was he missing Suzaku as much as Suzaku was missing him? Lelouch might act cold and distant, but he really was clingy when it came down to it. The Britannian boy had his own insecurities. No matter how he tried to hide them from the rest of the world, he always showed his vulnerable side to Suzaku. The Japanese teen loved his prince all the more for that show of trust.

Slight giggling interrupted his wandering thoughts. "What are you thinking about with that look on your face?"

Suzaku immediately snapped to attention and blushed, remembering his coworker was still sitting beside him, waiting for an answer. He'd been so lost in thought he hadn't realized his mouth had fallen open and his eyes had dropped half-mast.

"So it _is_ a girl," the blue-haired woman chuckled knowingly at his reaction. She sounded like she'd been waiting days to tease him about it.

The seventeen-year-old furiously shook his head, willing the heat to leave his face. "No!" he protested. "I'm not…thinking about a girl." He wasn't lying, he rationalized to himself. Lelouch was anything but female.

"Whatever you say," Cecile shot back, light blue eyes twinkling. "I know a lovesick expression when I see one. So tell me, what's she like? Is she in your class?"

Suzaku wriggled uncomfortably in his seat. Sometimes Cecile could be more deadly than Lloyd when she asked those kinds of questions. Was he so obvious to read? He normally did come across honest, but he didn't think his inner thoughts could be dissected through a single look. Then again, this was Cecile, and she was good at reading him. Lelouch would be ashamed of him for not controlling his expressions. "Uh…" he stammered, stalling for time.

"Or maybe," Cecile continued thoughtfully, rubbing her chin, "it's a certain Third Princess of the Empire?" She laughed lightly. "Remember that time at Narita—"

Spluttering, Suzaku waved his hands. "NO! Euphy's just a friend. A very _close_ friend, mind you, but not…I mean, we're not dating or anything."

The blue-haired woman laughed again. "'Euphy'?"

"She insists I call her that because we're _friends_ ," Suzaku explained, emphasizing their platonic relationship. "Maybe things would be different if Le—if I wasn't already seeing someone," he finished lamely, clapping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to let that slip.

"Oh?" His coworker inquired deviously, latching on to the fact that Suzaku was dating somebody after all. "And just who might that be?"

Suzaku clenched his jaw, not willing to spill anything more than he had already. He looked pointedly away, his eyes automatically falling on the wrecked Knightmare frame—another example of failure.

"Answer Miss Cecile's question. It's rude not to," Lloyd called over to them, speaking to Suzaku for the first time that day. He never looked up from his data and theories. He was working at a high-tech computer on a raised platform; stray papers littered the ground around him, some threatening to fall onto the base level floor.

The teen swallowed audibly as he thought things over. Miss Cecile was always respectful of his private life, and she normally didn't nose into his business. Whenever she asked questions, it was simply out of concern for him. She always did have his best interests at heart, and Suzaku knew she was probably just curious about his social life. Also, he really had to rectify her misinterpretation of that Narita incident with Euphy. Coming to a decision, the boy sighed, "Ah…well, like I said, there is no girl."

Cecile frowned, about to admonish him for lying, but Lloyd didn't miss a beat and yelled out, "Boy, then. What's your _boy_ friend like?"

Looking to the ceiling for guidance, the brunet groaned. Was his boss that perceptive, or was he just throwing out whatever came to mind in the hopes of embarrassing him? Knowing Lloyd Asplund, it could be either—especially since Lloyd still seemed to be angry at him for his recent screw-up.

"Is that true, Suzaku?" Cecile asked, trying to get over the initial shock. "It's all right if it is. We're not judgmental here." Wide blue eyes stared at the teen, but there was a wealth of warmth mixed in with the surprise.

The green-eyed youth—still not looking at them—slowly nodded. "Yeah. I…well…he's…how do I explain him? He's a bit complicated to—but I really like him. No, I'm fairly sure it's more than that. Ah, he's…um…" His old blush returned, and he awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. Being with Lelouch was so easy (sometimes), but talking about him proved to be hard.

Cecile giggled again, covering her hand with her mouth. "I'm sorry," she apologized, still chuckling. "It's just rare you're so flustered and happy. I'm glad to see you acting like a normal teenager. Have you told him how you feel?"

Lloyd suddenly popped up out of nowhere to lean over the teen, trying to intimidate him. "Have you done the naughty with him?" The wicked smirk on his face made the Japanese boy very uneasy.

The young pilot instinctively shrank back from the looming face of his boss. The mad scientist was far too close, was invading his personal space, and those cool blue eyes boring into his own put him on edge. How did he get off his raised platform so quickly? Lloyd's knowing leer stretched all the way across his face, making his entire visage appear misshapen and out of proportion. It was hard to tell what was going on in Lloyd Asplund's mind sometimes, but Suzaku was sure he didn't want to touch this issue regardless.

Cecile smiled widely and grabbed Lloyd by the ear. "Please, Suzaku, disregard any too-personal question Lloyd asks. He still doesn't understand that it's improper to nose into people's business like that. Whatever you do with this boy is your own business, and it has nothing to do with us here at work." Tuning out the scientist's yelps of pain, the blue-haired researcher dragged him away, presumably to continue lecturing him in private.

Suzaku watched them leave before letting out all his frustration and embarrassment in a sigh. He'd never actually planned on telling Cecile and Lloyd about his relationship. Lelouch was the one who'd suggested they keep everything quiet, just on the off-chance something could go wrong. He grinned to himself, noticing he was once again alone. Would Lelouch be home by now, perhaps lying on that sinfully wonderful bed of his?

It was decided. He was going to Ashford Academy.

Just as he was about to leave, the phone rang.

* * *

Only half the Student Council members were present at the customary meeting time. Afternoon sunshine slanted through the windows, falling upon the piles of untouched paperwork lying on the center table. One corner of the room was set up for its permanent resident with scratching posts and cat tree furniture, food and water bowls, and a litter box; Arthur himself dozed on a carpeted platform, his black tail neatly tucked around his body as his light purr sounded through the room. Open cardboard boxes lay strewn across the floor, half-packed with costumes for the next cosplay event; the lacy women's undergarments hanging out would surely have made Lelouch shudder had he been present to see them.

Shirley sighed and let her head drop on the table. She was still reeling from the fact that her precious Lelou had it bad for another guy—for _Suzaku_ of all people! Of course Lelouch would always be her friend, but right now she didn't know how to face him. She wondered how often he'd laughed at her behind her back, pitying her poor attempts at flirtation. But no, Lelouch wasn't that kind of person. She'd watched him enough over the years to know that much, at least. She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. How long was she expected to cry over him?

"Awww, stop being so melodramatic!" Milly waltzed over and thumped her on the back. She stared at her friend's downcast expression before her tone softened in understanding. "I know you're upset, but being sad over Lelouch isn't going to change things. And we all know Suzaku will take good care of him." She stood confidently, hip cocked to one side, and lifted her head high. She was the only perky person in the Student Council room. She could empathize with Shirley's pain—more so than anyone realized—but she didn't want to start off the meeting on a sad note.

Nina was hunched over on her computer, as always, not bothering to check in with the rest of the world. Especially when that Eleven was invading the school. No matter that he wasn't physically present at the moment; the mere threat of him was enough to make her turn away. Her purple eyes stayed glued to the computer screen, long fingers flying over the keys as she worked on something nobody else bothered to understand.

Rivalz plopped down next to Shirley, shaking his head. "Man, I can't believe I didn't notice! Lelouch is my best friend. How could I not have seen the connection between him and Suzaku?" Mimicking the orange-haired girl, he laid his head on the table. After a long moment of silence, he raised his head and asked, "…Hey, does this make me the only straight guy on the Student Council?" He looked hopefully at Milly, wanting to remind her just how heterosexual _he_ still remained.

Milly didn't take the hint; rather, she blatantly ignored it, as usual. "Can you believe the gossip today? The whole school is buzzing! It's understandable, of course. Lelouch is a popular boy, after all, and this whole affair is pretty scandalous."

"It is kind of shocking that he'd choose Suzaku," Rivalz input, scratching his head. Though disappointed that the object of his affections hadn't risen to the bait, he was always interested in hearing her speak.

The blonde president shrugged flippantly. "Oh, I dunno. Not when you look back on how they treated each other. I always knew there was _something_ special between them; though, I must say, I never expected anything _quite_ like this." She turned to the orange-haired girl, a devilish smirk gracing her face, winked, and roguishly asked, "Hey Shirley, want to imagine the finer details?" Milly was rewarded with her friend's usual spark.

Olive green eyes widened, and Shirley blushed before snapping, "No _thank_ you, Madame President; I've seen and heard just about enough of this! The only one I want an explanation from is Lelou himself!"

Milly chuckled, glad to see Shirley was beginning to act like her old self. "Don't we all?" She chanced a look around, noticing that half the Council was absent yet again. "Kallen must be feeling sick today, and Suzaku must be holed up at work." Snapping her fingers, she exclaimed, "Did you guys hear about the attack yesterday? The Black Knights broke into the university across the street! It hasn't made the news yet, but it will soon, I'm sure."

Rivalz tilted his head at her. "How do you know about it then?"

The blonde laughed, head thrown back and eyes shut in exaggerated merriment. "Oh, Rivalz. You know I know everything!" She slid into a seat on the other side of her wayward admirer, clear blue eyes softening as she tried to compose herself to explain. "Well, actually, my parents had set me up for another blind date." It could have been disastrous, revealing this information in front of Rivalz, but for once he was calm at the mention—or possibly just too in shock to speak. Milly continued, "This time, it was scheduled with a well-respected scientist who works on top-secret projects for the military. He's currently doing his work over at the university, and he had to call and cancel his appointment with me because of the damage the terrorists did. He's completely booked now, trying to salvage his project. It's fine with me if he wants to postpone our meeting! It just means I have my freedom for a little while longer."

The blue-haired boy was torn between crying (at the idea of Milly having another "blind date") and laughing (that it was canceled).

"I thought it was a _blind_ date?" Shirley subtly asked. Her eyes focused with new determination, having gained a new perspective on things: Lelouch may not ever feel for her the way she wished, but she at least still had the freedom to choose her own love. Milly was being forced to marry someone of high rank just for her family's status; the blonde definitely had a worse situation.

Milly shrugged. "Well, my parents had to explain to me why he suddenly backed out. It seems he likes to ramble on about his work. Something about 'Lancelot.'"

"'Lancelot'?" Shirley asked, raising an eyebrow.

Milly shook her head, an amused smile gracing her lips. "Don't ask me. Anyway, let's talk about something more cheerful! Do any of you know _where_ Lelouch is? He's the only one not accounted for. I know he likes to skip, but…"

Shirley blanched. "No, he was definitely planning on coming. He was the one who suggested he explain everything to us during the Council meeting."

"That's weird," the blonde murmured thoughtfully. "Lelouch always keeps his word in the end. Do you think he got held up in the hallway?" She started dividing the paperwork on the table, giving Shirley and Rivalz equally sized stacks. Even if Lelouch wasn't present yet to explain things, there was Council business to attend to in the meantime.

Rivalz shook his head. "Based on how everyone treated him today? I wouldn't think so. People are avoiding him like the plague. I think they believe they'll 'catch the Eleven' if they get too close, like it's some kind of contagious disease." He took his share of the paperwork with a groan, but dutifully grabbed a pencil to start outlining club budgets.

The president whipped out her cell phone. "The only way we'll find out what's going on is if we call him." She dialed Lelouch's number, frowning as it became apparent he wasn't going to answer. "Nothing," she informed the others after a few moments.

Shirley gasped at a sudden thought. "Lelou could be tied up somewhere!"

Milly shook her head, giggling a little at her friend. "Listen to that imagination! I'm sure he's on his way here."

Rivalz looked up from his work. "Or maybe he just went home for a little peace and quiet. You know the first thing he'd do in a situation like this would be to—"

"—run to Nunnally!" Milly and Shirley chimed in unison.

"Er, right," the blue-haired boy said slowly, a bit freaked out at how both the girls finished his sentence together.

Milly nodded, as if everything was clear and decided. "I'm sure that's what happened. Lelouch needs a little time to himself before he can face everyone, so let's give him a couple days. We'll be sure to let him know that we're here waiting for him in the Student Council Room—for whenever he's ready."

Shirley nodded glumly. "Yeah, but he promised…"

"What else was the guy gonna say?" Rivalz interjected. "He was totally put on the spot."

The orange-haired girl flinched. "I didn't mean to. I just…needed to know…"

Milly reached around Rivalz to squeeze Shirley's hand. "It's all right. No one's blaming you for asking questions. I wasn't there, but I know Lelouch. I'm sure he's just embarrassed; I don't think he'd be mad at you or anything. Not over something like this."

Shirley brightened a bit. "You're right. Thanks, Pres!" Lifting her head, she attacked her own pile of paperwork with renewed enthusiasm. "I just have to be patient. Lelou needs to relax, and he doesn't need me bothering him right now! Oh, I hope he's getting a good rest."

"I'm sure he is," Rivalz assured her. "He didn't sleep through class like he normally does, so I'm guessing he'd be pretty tired. Honestly, I don't blame the guy for wanting some alone time."

The blonde chuckled. "None of us do. Okay, so we'll hold off on worrying about the whole Lelouch situation for now and give him space. As soon as he's ready, we'll be here to listen. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Rivalz and Shirley answered firmly. With that settled, they worked on Council business for another hour or so. Since half the members were absent, there was a lot of paperwork to keep the present members busy.

Eventually, Shirley lifted her head. "Hey, Madame President?" she asked softly. "Are you going to do anything to the Culture Club for spreading this rumor around?"

"It's hardly a 'rumor,'" Milly pointed out matter-of-factly. "And of course! I can't let them get away with defiling our darling Lelou's precious image, can I? It's just a question of what's within my influence…"

"Let's not give them any funds!" Rivalz suggested. "Then we can give up on this paperwork!"

Shirley glared at the lazy boy. "Aren't you worried about _Lelou?_ "

Shifting uncomfortably under that heated look, Rivalz managed, "Yeah, of course! But I'm sure he's fine. I don't think anyone would do anything to him—no one's approached him all day, remember? Lelouch is the 'diseased Eleven-lover.'"

Milly sighed and looked out the window. "Ashford Academy is supposed to be accepting of Elevens. Suzaku has proven himself to be a good person, hasn't he? Everyone here should have begun to see that the stereotypes don't apply. Besides, Lelouch himself is Britannian…"

Nina huddled into herself on the other side of the room, finally deeming it necessary to contribute to the conversation. Struggling to voice her opinion, she said, "That's what makes it so much worse, though. The Elevens can't help being born what they are, but Lelouch actively _chose_ to date one." Her fingers slowed on her keyboard, but she continued to type, needing something solid to occupy her mind.

Shirley, Rivalz, and Milly all stared at her, speechless for a moment or two. Then, having regained the ability to speak, the orange-haired girl shrieked, "You don't still think Elevens are _bad?!_ "

Shaking, Nina offered a half-hearted shrug. She hated speaking anyway, but going against the majority just made it that much harder. Especially when the majority consisted of her closest friends. Luckily for her, the unpleasant conversation was interrupted by a frantic knock on the door.

"Lelouch! Milly! Shirley! Is anyone in there?"

The members of the Student Council all raised their heads at the inquiry. Nunnally Lamperouge had never sounded so upset.

"Yes, Nunnally. We're here!" Milly called back, standing to greet the newcomers. Then, she amended under her breath, "Well, your brother isn't…"

The door opened with a bang, and Sayoko dipped her head, a worried expression clouding her face. "We can't find Master Lelouch anywhere, and he's not answering his cell phone. He's definitely nowhere in the residence, so we figured he might be here with you. I don't see him, though. Do any of you have an idea of where he might have gone?"

The wheelchair-bound girl shivered. "I've just got this real bad feeling…I need to talk to my brother…"

Shirley and Rivalz glanced at each other before speaking. "He was definitely in last period. We thought he would come to the Council meeting, but he didn't. We figured he was just too ashamed to come because of…you know…" Neither of them wanted to voice words about the Suzaku-and-Lelouch picture incident, not when it was unknown as to whether innocent little Nunnally actually understood everything.

The nursemaid pursed her lips, signifying she caught their meaning. "I know it's very possible Master Lelouch was simply upset and needed some time alone—that's what we'd decided earlier—but it _has_ been a couple hours since anyone has seen him. Considering how most people at this school think about Elevens, Lady Nunnally is right to be concerned about his whereabouts."

"Right, we'll find Lelouch!" Milly shouted, giving everyone a thumbs up. If _Nunnally_ was worried, that overruled the previous plan to give Lelouch distance. Milly knew Lelouch would have agreed, too; he'd never want to upset his little sister. The blonde's genuine enthusiasm caused the young princess to let her shoulders drop in momentary relief. "Lelouch knows there isn't anywhere in this school where he can hide from _me_ ," Milly cackled, hand on her hip. Shirley and Rivalz dropped the documents they had been working on, and even Nina abandoned her computer to join in the search. Only Arthur shrugged off the concern, flicking his ears at the rowdy group of students.

Nunnally held her hand out, seeking contact from her Japanese nurse. "Someone should call Suzaku. I know it's silly, but just in case something is wrong…"

"It's a good idea anyway," Sayoko reassured her, moving to squeeze her charge's hand. "Suzaku knows Master Lelouch _very_ well. Perhaps he might have some clues as to where your brother might be hiding." She grabbed her cell phone, then glided over to Nina's abandoned computer. "Suzaku doesn't answer his phone when he's on duty, right? We'll need to contact him through his work. Do you remember what department he was part of, Lady Nunnally?" Her voice was strict and business-like, to the point, but still gentle and comforting to her disabled ward.

The young blind girl took a moment to think, crinkling her forehead in concentration. "He mentioned the Engineering Corp," she finally answered. "Something sounded off in his voice when he said it, but that's the only branch he's ever mentioned by name."

Sayoko took a few seconds to locate the military base's contact information online. It _was_ a potential emergency, knowing Lelouch. That boy had a penchant for getting into trouble. Sayoko knew Nunnally was scared—scared that the day had finally come when Lelouch's skills failed to save him.

* * *

"Yes, this is the Advanced Special Envoy Engineering Corp," Cecile confirmed, shuffling some papers as she listened to the woman on the phone. The person on the other line wasn't anyone concerned with the budget, data, equipment, or anything related to the Lancelot's destruction. In fact, she didn't seem to be interested in military operations at all. "…You wish to speak with Suzaku?" The blue-haired woman looked surprised as she listened to the other's hurried explanation before a worried look overtook her features. "Oh, oh I see! Well, Suzaku was just about to head over there anyway. Here, let me get him for you real quick." Putting a hand over the mouthpiece, Cecile called for the Eleven pilot, ignoring Lloyd's quizzical stare.

Suzaku bounded over, already dressed in his school uniform. He tilted his head at his coworker, clearly confused when she held out the phone to him. Nobody had ever contacted him at work before. "He-hello?" he asked. He listened for a moment, green eyes widening. His fingers clutched the phone tighter. "Sayoko! What are you…why are you calling me? Did something happen to Nunnally?!" His face paled at her next words, but then he shook his head a bit to clear his mind. "Well, that's not unusual. Lelouch disappears a lot; you know that. Why would this time mean anything serious?" There was a long, ominous silence. "…Sayoko? Okay, fine, explain it to me when I get over there. In the meantime, are you sure he didn't sneak out to gamble? I know it's a bad habit, but he does that a lot, too—oh, Rivalz is still there? Yeah. Um. Check the roof, the kitchens…" Suzaku rambled off a list of places, racking his brain for any ideas of where Lelouch may have ended up. Finally, he hung up the phone and turned to the others, a worried glint gracing his eyes. "Something must have happened today. She was hiding something from me."

Cecile laid a hand on his shoulder, offering support. "Do you want us to go with you? If there are problems…" Her face was taut with concern, eyebrows drawn together in worry.

The Japanese teen shook his head. "No, it's all right. You have enough to do here. Besides, my friends might just be overreacting." Despite his words, his hands were shaking; Sayoko's fear and uneasiness were contagious. What would he do if something _had_ happened to Lelouch?

Lloyd stood up from the computer he was working at. "Well, we can't do anything more until our royal patronage arrives to oversee our work."

His assistant gasped. "You mean the emperor is taking a personal interest in our projects?!"

Chortling, the scientist shook his head. "No, not the emperor. I meant Second Prince Schneizel. He _is_ the head of our branch, is he not? He was going to come to Area 11 sometime soon anyway to see the Lancelot in action; yesterday's attack just made him speed up his time schedule. Too bad he won't get to see my precious Lancelot operational." He clucked his tongue in disappointment and added, "He also wants to meet _you_ , Suzaku. Your piloting skills are famous throughout the entire Britannian Army, and I think he's heard some good things about you from the Third Princess." Lloyd waggled his eyebrows suggestively in the brunet's direction, but Suzaku studiously ignored him.

Cecile smiled in the youth's direction. "That's wonderful, Suzaku! You're being recognized for your abilities. And if the Second Prince wants to direct recovery operations, we have to wait for him before continuing our work. Say, Lloyd, when is Prince Schneizel getting here?"

"The earliest he can come is tomorrow. Did you hear they completed a _float system_ …?"

"Don't you need to get things ready for his arrival?" Suzaku interrupted, glancing around the lab. The place was a mess still. As he looked, some nameless soldiers carried in replacement Knightmare parts, making the lab that much more cluttered. They dropped the mechanical machine limbs on the floor, making a resounding clang echo through the lab. The body of the Knightmare would be easy to replace; it would be harder to gather enough sakuradite to power another system like the Lancelot.

Cecile followed his gaze and smiled weakly. "You're right, Suzaku, we do still need to finish some minor things in preparation. But still, please feel free to call us if there's anything we can do to help."

The offer lay heavy in the air between them before Suzaku nodded, his face a firm mask of determination. It wouldn't come to that; there should be nothing amiss at school to warrant such aid.

* * *

Suzaku burst through the door of the Clubhouse Hall, barely pausing to catch his breath before making his way to the Student Council room. Campus seemed normal, if a bit tense. Other students kept throwing alarmed looks his way, but he supposed he understood: He must have looked like a madman running through the halls. He knew Sayoko was keeping something from him over the phone, and the fact that she was worried about Lelouch made him anxious. There was something not quite right about this whole situation, and his imagination was not helping matters. Lelouch was probably fine. After all, what could possibly have happened to him in Ashford Academy?

Sayoko looked up at the sound of thudding footsteps. She waited only a moment to confirm who it was before speaking up. "Lady Nunnally," the trained professional said, lightly touching the blind girl's hand. "Suzaku is here."

Nunnally breathed a sigh of relief, turning her unseeing face towards the doorway. "Oh, Suzaku, thank goodness! I know I'm being silly and irrational, but…well…I heard some students in my class making harsh remarks about my brother, and now he's nowhere to be found. The others say the rumors were even worse in the high school section, so I just can't imagine what my brother went through all day. I'm really worried about him." She motored a few feet forward and reached out with her free hand, searching for contact from her childhood friend. Sayoko dutifully followed her charge forward, careful to maintain physical touch. Nunnally needed comfort.

The Japanese narrowed his eyes during the young girl's explanation. "I don't understand. What happened today? Why would anything bad happen to Lelouch?" Suzaku determinedly grabbed hold of Nunnally's grasping fingers, letting her feel his confusion.

Before Nunnally or Sayoko could answer, the intercom buzzed and Milly's voice echoed through the school, bright and cheerful. "Attention all students, teachers, and faculty! This is your Student Council President, Milly Ashford, speaking! We seem to be missing a certain vice president of ours. If anyone catches sight of Lelouch Lamperouge, please escort him to the Clubhouse Hall immediately! You are allowed to use force if necessary. I repeat, please find Lelouch Lamperouge and bring him to me!" she ordered, then giggled. "No prize kiss this time, folks. We all know by now that our esteemed vice president only has eyes for one certain Eleven, so please bear that in mind when dragging Lelouch over here," she reminded, the echoing sing-song in her voice apparent. She didn't mention Suzaku by name, but the damage was done; everyone knew there was only one Eleven who attended Ashford Academy.

Suzaku's face burned. It was bad enough Milly discovered his and Lelouch's secret relationship, but did she have to broadcast word of it over the school airwaves?! And just how did Milly find out in the first place? Did Lelouch let something slip? Suzaku would have understood that from anyone else, but not from Lelouch. The Britannian prince was just too mindful of things to say something accidentally.

"Well, you can see why Master Lelouch might be hiding," Sayoko replied dryly. "Nunnally and I are staying here in case he comes home on his own. Nina is checking the rooftops, kitchens, and laboratories. Rivalz is scouting the outside perimeter and lawn on his motorbike. Milly is checking the dorms and classroom buildings. And Shirley is checking the gym and swimming pool areas."

Suzaku nodded, mentally filing away the information. Briefly, the thought flew through his mind that this must be the reason why people at school kept looking at him strangely. He found he couldn't process all the details—not when he had a job to do. Not when Lelouch was still missing. "All right. I'll start with the auditorium and then help Milly since she's got the most ground to cover." He turned and was halfway out the door before he popped his head back in. "Just out of curiosity, how did word leak out?"

No one needed to be told what he was asking about. "Um," Nunnally stammered, "this picture apparently portrays the two of you…being indecent with one another." Though she couldn't gain any information from a visual piece of evidence, the young blind girl still clutched the photograph, running her fingers over its smooth, glossy surface.

With trepidation, the brunet marched over to take the picture. He gasped upon noticing the scene captured on film. There was silence for a long moment before he slowly pocketed the picture. "You don't mind if I…?"

Sayoko shook her head. "Go ahead and keep it. But you should know there are multiple copies floating around campus; holding that one picture on your person won't stop the evidence from spreading."

Nunnally nodded determinedly, her face scrunched with worry. "You need a copy more than I do. Just bring my brother back safe and sound, Suzaku!"

Emerald eyes shone warmly in the young girl's direction. "Of course, Nunnally. It's a promise." Failure was not an option. He would find Lelouch—for Nunnally's sake, as well as his own.

* * *

It was funny how most school scandals seemed to involve Lelouch. Shirley still giggled at the memory of the cat chase; that had been months ago when Suzaku first transferred into the school. The giggles stopped as the heartbroken girl remembered: they also always seemed to involve the Eleven boy. Not that she minded—terribly—but it was hard not to be bitter when she thought of how the Japanese boy had stolen her Lelou. Not that he was ever hers to begin with, but she was in the middle of working on it! She sighed, her jealousy and anger dissipating as she stepped over a puddle on the pool deck. As Milly had pointed out, Suzaku could make Lelouch happy. That was what she wanted, wasn't it? Of course she'd have preferred to be the one to make him happy, but there was just no way to compete with Suzaku when Lelouch had clearly already made his choice.

"Lelou!" she called, cupping her hands over her mouth to make her voice carry. There was no swim practice today, so the pool area was empty. The chlorine water sparkled under the late afternoon sun. "Lelou, come out! Nobody's mad at you, you know! It's all right if you love Suzaku, just don't hide from us! We're your friends! Leeeloooouuuu!" She stopped shouting, waiting to see if he, or anyone, answered her calls. Nothing. Huffing, she continued the search. With every area thoroughly combed over and no sign of her target, Shirley grew frustrated. What a jerk that boy could be! Making them all worry like this…

"Oooh, he better not have run off to gamble…" she muttered, stomping towards the gym. It was official. He was nowhere near the pool.

* * *

Suzaku, of all people, understood how the school could become a center of festering hate. Of course Lelouch would slip away from such an unpleasant environment. He would hole himself up in his own hiding place until he thought of a suitable plan to work things to his advantage. Normally he was excellent at thinking things up on the spot, but Suzaku could understand his wanting some time alone to let everything sink in. Even knowing that, the Japanese boy was uneasy. It was no secret around campus that Lelouch was not the fittest person around, and the thought of the weak Britannian boy being subject to physical torture made his stomach churn. Still, Lelouch was capable. What he lacked in strength, he made up for with intelligence. He possessed excellent skills in verbal persuasion and mind games. Surely he could get himself out of a dire situation…

Lost in thought, he was jerked back to reality by a jeer. "Hey look, it's the Eleven!"

Suzaku paused in his trek across the lawn to the auditorium. A slight breeze blew by, ruffling the grass under his feet; the shadow of the auditorium slanted over him as the late afternoon sun sailed the sky. Swiveling to the left, he noticed a huddled group of students passing something amongst themselves. Changing direction, he approached them and caught sight of an identical picture to the one resting in his school jacket being passed around. "What are you doing with that?" he asked in a dangerously low tone. He ignored the others' surprised gasps as he thrust his way into the circle, green eyes blazing. Snatching their copy of the photo, he ripped it into little pieces, letting his worry and anger surface. He and Lelouch were not a main attraction at a circus, and their private life was not meant to be mocked and ridiculed by the masses. Did people not understand how serious this was?

One of the students growled, "You think you can just come up and destroy our property? Think again, lowly Eleven scum!"

The athletic Japanese teen easily dodged the fist that came flying towards his nose, and he had to check himself that he didn't react like he would on the battlefield. These were his classmates, unskilled if misguided civilians, and he was a trained soldier. He couldn't unleash his full attack strength on them; it wouldn't be a fair fight. They'd gossiped and intruded into his and Lelouch's personal matters, but it wasn't as if they'd committed any great crime. They'd done nothing against Britannian law. He had no right to attack them, even in self-defense. So long as he could avoid their blows…

The group of students laughed. "Coward! Look, the Eleven won't fight back. He must be a really useless soldier."

Seething, Suzaku snarled back, "I don't want to hurt you!" He ducked under his current opponent's arm, emerald eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Lelouch. It didn't make sense that his Britannian lover would be here among these hateful students—at least willingly—but he had to check to be sure.

The fight was drawing obvious attention. More teenagers came spilling out of nearby buildings to investigate what was going on. They packed the lawn and colonnade, jostling each other to get a closer look.

"Hey, it's the man of the hour!" shouted one of the students, jabbing his neighbor in the side with an elbow.

"How'd you land a beauty like Lamperouge?"

"Congratulations on your relationship! You two make such a cute couple!"

"How dare you turn Lelouch gay?!"

"Can you kiss him for the school newspaper?"

"Stupid Eleven!"

"How far have you gone with him?" The girl who'd asked that was sent dirty looks by her surrounding classmates. "What?" she asked indignantly. "It's a valid question. They might not have gone all the way yet!"

" _That's enough!_ " Suzaku roared, backpedaling to safety. The oncoming rush of students broke apart the circle of fighting, and his original assailants were lost in the swirl of newcomers. Nervously, the Japanese tugged on his collar. Too many of his peers surrounded him to fight his way through, at least without causing unnecessary damage, and the solid wall they presented blocked off any escape routes. What should he say? There was no way out of this without throwing them a speech or an answer of some sort, but he wasn't nearly as good with words as Lelouch was. His eyelids slipped shut as he tried desperately to think of a way out of this. He couldn't hurt his fellow students; he wouldn't disrespect them as they had disrespected him—him and Lelouch.

Nerves steeling, he opened his eyes, emerald fire burning in their depths. He might not be as good a speaker as his lover, but this situation only called for the simple truth. He could handle that. "What Lelouch and I do when we're together is nobody's business but our own. Thank you to those who support us, but we'd really appreciate it if you'd all just stop making such a big deal over this." He held out his arms to ward off the students crowding around him, sweating as they closed in from every side. Not all of them were giving off hostile vibes, but he didn't have time to deal with this; he still had to locate Lelouch.

Just as he was being backed up against the building wall, the intercom buzzed again. A familiar voice rang over the lawn. "Would all members of the Student Council report to the Clubhouse Hall? It's an emergency."

Suzaku's eyes widened in fear. There was none of the usual playfulness found in Milly's voice, and his gut lurched at the word 'emergency.' Somehow, he knew it involved Lelouch. The adrenaline rush kicked in, giving him the resolve to brave the sea of students standing in his way. In a daze, he pushed his way through the throng and dashed back to the Student Council room. As he burst inside and ran along the hallways, he noticed other students shooting him sympathetic looks; the ones milling about the school must have been the ones helping to look for Lelouch out of the goodness of their hearts. That, or they were the few who didn't really care about the latest school news. His feet pounded against the floor, the sound oddly reminiscent of his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage. There was room for only a single thought in the muddled recesses of his mind: _Please, Lelouch, be okay._

He had to believe in his lover. He'd made a promise.

 _"_ _I know what you're thinking, Suzaku. Stop it." Lelouch frowned in the brunet's direction, pushing at his chest to send the younger sprawling._

 _The brown-haired boy laughed cautiously from his new spot on the bedroom floor. A small glob of lube sprayed the wooden floorboard, accidentally spilling as it fell off the bed with him; he knew Lelouch would be upset when he noticed that his room was no longer completely spotless. Holding the other's gaze, the brunet blindly tried to scoop the lube onto his hands. They still had a use for it, after all. "Oh, so you can read minds now?" he asked, going for playful, ducking the pillow that was thrown at him for his cheek._

 _The exiled prince sighed dramatically, folding his arms over his chest. Unfortunately per his intentions, he didn't look imposing at all; in fact, in his vulnerable undressed state, he reinforced the image he detested: fragile._

 _With a small, upward curve of his lips, Lelouch fondly murmured, "_ _Your_ _mind is so simple an idiot could read it." He held up a hand to ward off any protests, specks of concern floating in his eyes. There was a bigger issue to discuss. "Suzaku, listen. I can take care of myself. I don't need you to worry about me or baby me or shelter me or protect me or anything else along those lines you're thinking of doing. I can handle the world, so give me more credit." They both knew his speech was not limited to their activities within the bedroom._

 _With an apologetic look, the Japanese boy ignored the teasing to focus on his lover's more serious words. "I don't mean to underestimate you. It's just…I care about you, Lelouch, so it's natural for me to worry. Don't you worry about me? About Nunnally?" Suzaku pressed earnestly, slowly climbing back on the bed. Lelouch didn't push him off this time._

 _The black-haired boy blushed a darker red, snapping a harsh, "That's_ _ **different**_ _!_ _" in the other's direction._

 _Suzaku hummed in his throat but didn't press the issue. 'Different,' of course. Lelouch just always had to be difficult. The young soldier leaned forward, dropping a hand on Lelouch's shoulder. "Fine," he acquiesced. "I'll humor you. I can't promise I won't worry, but I'll try to remember that you can handle yourself."_

 _"_ _And now you're mocking me," Lelouch growled, clenching fistfuls of the sheet in his lap. "You don't really believe—" He was interrupted by a hard kiss, quite effectively silencing him. As soon as Suzaku pulled back, he continued as if the disruption never took place, "—that I can take care of myself. Well, let me remind you that I've been doing it for the past seven years—"_

 _"_ _Lelouch, I know that. I just—"_

 _"—_ _Nunnally, too—"_

 _"—_ _I'm sorry, I—"_

 _"—_ _don't need you looking down on me—"_

 _"—_ _I'd never—"_

 _"—_ _need your help," Lelouch finished with a huff._

* * *

There was an unpleasant, metallic scent lingering in the gym. Shirley had to hold her hands over her nose and mouth as soon as she entered; it wasn't that it was overpowering, but that it was out-of-place. Sports-related injuries weren't uncommon, but the scent of blood was never this prominent for a minor scrape or cut. Besides, the last gym class ended hours ago; there was no reason for the iron tang of blood to taint the air. A twisting knot of anticipation settled in her stomach, and the poor girl dreaded what she would find at the source of the awful stench. "Please don't be Lelou," she prayed, but with every step, the certainty and revulsion at the idea grew. She followed her nose to the back, her breath hitching as she caught sight of the first splash of red. Bloody footprints stained the floor heading away from the boy's locker room.

There wasn't enough blood to indicate a major wound, but there was enough to assure her there was something amiss. The footprints only lasted a few paces, the vibrant red at the door fading with each step outward. Panic seized the girl's heart, and she wrung her hands together nervously. What if the dangerous people came back? A shudder ran through her body, but she straightened and steadfastly put her hand on the door. Lelou might be inside.

Painstakingly, Shirley pushed the door open. She breathed a slight sigh of relief when she didn't notice anything amiss in her direct line of vision, but the fearful anticipation came back twice as strong when she remembered she still had the rest of the room to search. The smell of blood was stronger here, and she held her breath as she stepped over the threshold onto the wet tiled floor. She clutched the protruding door for as long as she could, trying to regain her bearings, before she had to let go in order to move forward. The loud click of the door closing behind her made her freeze; she felt trapped. "Lelou?" she called softly, her voice catching.

A rustle to her left caught her attention, and she swung around in that direction. It was the same one the footprints originated from. The layout of the boy's locker room was similar to that of the girl's. There were rows of dark blue lockers stacked the length of the room which blocked her from seeing anything beyond the closest metal compartments. She had to traverse the aisle near the wall in order to peer into each sectioned off area; lockers were normally grouped together by class. "Hello?" she called out again. So intent was she upon looking for Lelouch, she tripped over a metal baseball bat that was lying carelessly on the ground. With a shriek, she fell on her face.

When she lifted her eyes, she was privy to the most glorious and most disturbing sight she'd ever beheld.

* * *

"Shirley said it was an emergency," Milly informed the others once they'd all gathered at the Clubhouse Hall. She didn't even try to hide the urgency in her voice, which was a huge tip-off that something was dreadfully wrong. "I didn't want to broadcast the place she found him. We don't need bystanders getting in our way. Listen, I need a volunteer or two to go to the front gates and direct the ambulance once it gets here. I've already called one. We're going to the gym—the boy's locker room to be precise." Deep blue eyes were set and determined; it would take someone who knew Milly very well to understand she was holding back tears. Immediately, the members of the Student Council gasped and started tossing questions at their blonde president.

Suzaku didn't stick around to hear anymore; he'd figure things out for himself after he saw Lelouch. As soon as the word 'gym' left the president's mouth, he was out the door and running harder than he ever had—even with all his years of military training. The mention of an ambulance only spurred him on faster, and all his old half-imagined outrageous fantasies roared to life inside his head. He needed to see Lelouch, needed to know he would be okay.

He reached the gym in record time and cursed to himself that he had to slow down to open doors. "Lelouch," he murmured to himself. "You told me you could handle yourself. Please…" He didn't even know what he was mumbling anymore when he finally burst into the boy's locker room, drawn there by the hysterical sobs of one orange-haired friend.

Shirley's cell phone was shaking in her lap. It wasn't vibrating because of an incoming call, but because the girl herself was quivering so hard. Olive green eyes were trained on an unmoving lump of skin, blood, and Ashford Academy uniform.

Suzaku followed her line of sight and choked. He suddenly didn't have enough air, and his chest was burning. He started shaking, too overwhelmed with shock. He barely heard Shirley's frantic cries of, "We shouldn't move him; we can't move him!" as he took a step closer, forcing himself to look.

Come. And spit. Smeared over his Britannian lover's face. Suzaku gasped and swayed on his feet at the sight, his vision swimming with tears as he shook his head in disbelief. Burning rage warred with numb shock, and his blackened tunnel-vision focused only on Lelouch. Through the haze, he noticed the striking red cut on the Britannian's backside; the wound promised to scar in the near future into a permanent numerical shape: _11_. He stumbled forward the rest of the way, his chest tight as he hyperventilated. He tried to get his breathing under control, but it was impossible. He had too many emotions whirling inside him to concentrate; sobbing, he reached out to his lover. His pulse raced, and his mind was a panicked jumble of thoughts. _Oh god, Lelouch. That is…you've been…how could this have…because of me…should've been here…need you to…should've protected you…open your eyes…please…wake up…who the hell did this…must kill…I'm so sorry…Lelouch, I…_

His eyes grazed over his lover's form. The damage seemed to be mostly restricted to Lelouch's lower body, but the wounds there were enough to tear at his heartstrings. The victimized Britannian's bare legs were covered in bruises and bits of blood; in some instances, the skin had peeled away to reveal raw, jagged bone. His limbs looked like mashed pulp where the bones had been struck so often they'd broken into many unrecognizable lumps of connective tissue. Purplish-red blotches circled his neck; the intense color was visible peeking out from under his uniform collar. Ebony hair was mussed. Both his arms and legs were tied securely around a wooden changing bench, and his eyes were covered by a blindfold. It was worse than he'd imagined, and to top it all off, Lelouch wasn't moving.

Almost reverently, he tugged the accursed blindfold from Lelouch's eyes and smoothed back his sweat-matted hair. As soon as his fingers made contact with the raven-haired boy's body, Lelouch very visibly flinched. Suzaku paused, letting his hand hover, not wanting to cause his lover any more pain. Another garbled sob caught in his throat; he never _ever_ wanted Lelouch to be afraid of _him._ It was understandable why the beaten Britannian boy was adverse to touch, but it still hurt; Suzaku had never wanted to hug Lelouch more in his life. Slowly, he tested the waters and ran a finger along the older boy's cheek, deeply relieved to feel breath issuing steadily from between open lips. Lelouch had stiffened at first, but he'd made no move to shake the brunet's hand off his head. Was that because deep down he recognized Suzaku's touch, or because he had been recently conditioned not to fight? Cringing at the fluids on the older boy's face, the Japanese let himself cry over the prone figure, his tears dripping into soft black locks. He closed his eyes, praying it was all a horrible dream, and whispered a quiet, broken, pleading, "Lelouch."

"Suzaku…"

His eyes snapped open at the weak, scratchy sound of his name being uttered. Green eyes sought out purple, and he wept harder at the uncharacteristically defeated, dull look he found in them. So Lelouch was awake after all—if not completely _there_ , judging by the hazy look in his eyes. Suzaku felt as if there were claws piercing his heart. And he knew, as he stared into Lelouch's dim eyes, that the self-blame and self-loathing he'd felt earlier that day were incomparable to the way he felt now, with sharp tendrils of suffocating fiery shame engulfing his entire body. The Lancelot was just a Knightmare, a military resource—it could always be replaced.

But Lelouch…

Chest tightening further at the thought, he cupped his lover's cheek—dirtied as it was—and fell to his knees, his uniform pants getting stained with blood and sweat. He lovingly rubbed his thumb in a comforting circular motion beneath Lelouch's left eye, never breaking his gaze. Swallowing, he tried to force some words out, but found he couldn't make his voice work; only a strangled hiccup sounded for all his efforts.

The other members of the Student Council arrived, but could only stare in shock, not wanting to intrude. Milly dropped down beside Shirley, not having the willpower to hold back her tears any longer at the sight of Lelouch's current state. Rivalz stayed on his feet, but only barely. Nina and Sayoko had been elected to fetch the ambulance. It was only when the whirring buzz of Nunnally's wheelchair sounded that Suzaku realized he was not alone with Lelouch, never mind Shirley who had been there from the beginning.

"What's going on?" the young blind girl asked, her voice quaking in the tense atmosphere. "That smell…is it blood? Someone please tell me if my brother is all right!" In a rare show of frustration, she slammed her hand down on the armrest of her wheelchair and motored forward another few inches. "Please! Someone…"

Lelouch didn't even turn at the sound of his beloved sister's worried tone.

Suzaku lifted his head, never ceasing his ministrations, and found his voice. "I'm sorry, Nunnally. I've failed."

* * *

 **-End Chapter-**


	3. Fated Coincidence

Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass. I do not make profit from writing this fanfiction.

 **An unrated version of this story is on my AO3 account (NeoDiji) and linked on my Tumblr (NeoDiji).**

A/N: Chapter 3 is the same regardless of where it is posted.

Thank you ever so much to all those who have reviewed, favorited, followed, etc. :D

Chapter 3 is largely unchanged from its original version, for those who remember the story from several years back.

No active trigger happenings, but references to what happened in Chapter 1 (so still, beware violence and gore, sensitive situations, adult material overall). Nothing that needed to be watered-down, though.

* * *

Chapter Three – Fated Coincidence

* * *

"We're here at the scene of the crime, bringing you live coverage of the aftermath!" gushed a young female reporter, her face twisting into an expression of fake concern for the sake of the national audience. Her mouth turned down at the corners, but she couldn't hide the sparkle in her eyes at covering a juicy story. Being sure to control herself, only a small portion of excitement leaked through her voice when she continued, "In just a few moments, we'll share eye-witness accounts of what _really_ happened." She swept her arm out, pointing in the general direction of the educational facility behind her.

Blue Hi-TV News vans were parked in front of the university; the mess of wires and camera equipment spilled onto the street. Television reporters, journalists, cameramen, light and sound crews, drivers, and computer technicians milled around their temporary news site under the dusk sky. The number of vans and media representatives accounted for a large amount of space, so the road between the university and the prestigious Ashford Academy high school was completely blocked off.

Turning back to the camera, the reporter brought incoming viewers up-to-date. "Yesterday afternoon, this university was targeted by the infamous masked terrorist Zero…"

* * *

Lelouch came to gradually, his mind surfacing from beneath a sea of excruciating hurt and painful memories. He tried to move in his half-conscious state, and the sharp tug of his bonds jerked him the rest of the way to disoriented wakefulness. One by one, the memories of the day trickled sluggishly through his head and he flinched at the happenings of the last hours. _The kidnapping…the knife…the touching…the bat…the beating…the humiliation of that final act…_ His body was in a delicate state, and he dazedly despaired of being found before the pain consumed him completely.

His blood burned in his veins before oozing out the open wounds, and sharp jolts of agony zinged throughout his entire body. He couldn't even feel his legs save for the pinpricks of pain across bone and skin, and the thickly tied cords cut into his wrists and ankles, keeping him in place and adding injuries of their own. All the muscles in his limbs ached profusely from being bound in an awkward position for an extended period of time. The open cut on his backside stung, but it was quickly fading into a bearable ache; it would be fine as long as no one messed with it for a time. Cool air washed over his bare skin, reminding him of his unclothed state. The back of his head also throbbed from when they'd knocked him unconscious at the end. A thick, dried mucus-like substance clung to his face; Lelouch dry-heaved at the remembrance of what it was, making his already sore throat burn.

He clenched his teeth, subtly pulling at his bonds with the slight amount of energy he had available. Recalling the torture and taking a dull inventory of his wounds made the pain rear up again, almost as if thinking about it was equivalent to reliving the experience, and he couldn't hold back a groan in the empty stillness of the locker room. Something continuously buzzed and vibrated against his breast, and it took longer than normal for him to recognize the cause as his cell. His fingers twitched, and he bemoaned the fact that he couldn't reach the damn thing with his hands tied. If he could only answer it…! Drifting in and out of consciousness, he gave in to the pain, snapping to at the more severe waves. There was no sense of time, only a lingering discomfiture and hurt that existed outside the boundaries of human perception.

"Lelou!"

It was the sound of that name specifically that wrapped around his subconscious and provided a startling sense of comfort. There were only good feelings associated with the nickname—the warmth of casual closeness and friendship, the playfulness and minor irritation mixed with flattery of being on the receiving end of an impossible crush, the carefree and lighthearted feeling of fun reminiscent of the Student Council; it was his only name not weighed down with a heavy past and crushing responsibilities. He reacted instinctively to it, despite the overwhelming buzz of pain, and shifted on the bench in response. Only his friends ever addressed him as 'Lelou,' and that name said in an unmistakably worried _feminine_ tone soothed the initial unconscious freezing terror that his attackers were back. Moving even that little bit made his injuries smart all the more, and he went limp on the bench, his energy suddenly drained worse than before.

A few seconds later, a loud clatter and crash reached his ears; the ping of clanging metal meant the baseball bat had skittered on the tiled floor. Lelouch balked at the sound, his mind sensitive to any connection to the weapon that had inflicted so much pain. There was a tense silence for a moment—before Shirley let out a stunned gasp: "Lelou!"

* * *

"So Zero himself made an appearance here yesterday?" asked a long-haired blond Britannian. The camera in his hands wasn't rolling, but there was a certain gleam in his blue eyes that made Cecile Croomy wary of answering.

Seeing his assistant was taking her sweet time in responding to such a simple question, Lloyd stepped in. "That would be correct, Mr. …?"

"Reid," the blond cameraman filled in. "Diethard Reid. I happen to be following Zero's exploits _very_ closely, so any extra information you can give me would be greatly appreciated." His tone was absolutely _hungry_ , and his fingers clenched in anticipation around his camera equipment.

It was just the three of them in the damaged hangar of the university; the room seemed entirely too big without the bulk of the Lancelot taking up space. The rest of the media crew was setting up outside. Due to privacy restrictions, the university didn't want an entire band of strangers trampling through potentially dangerous laboratory equipment in order to get a good story. So it was that they allowed a single media representative inside to get exclusive coverage of the interior destruction caused by the Black Knights. The interviews were scheduled to take place outside; the hole in the university wall set to serve as a good backdrop indicative of the overall damage.

"There's nothing to tell now that we won't be saying on-air," Cecile put in matter-of-factly.

Diethard quickly hid his disappointment. "Right, I understand." He scanned the room, noting the black scuff marks made by the enemy Knightmares on the floor. "It's just," he sighed melodramatically, "I was recently demoted at the station because Zero stole one of my vans during the Lake Kawaguchi hotel jacking. If I can put an extra spin on this story, then I might be able to reclaim my old position. Can you help me?" There was no need to go into the more exact details of his demotion.

Lloyd blinked, then waved a finger in the media-man's face. "A _ha!_ " He spun around in a circle, his white lab coat swirling around his frame. "You're going to say you don't remember a thing, just like Gottwald!"

"You're on close terms with Jeremiah Gottwald, too?" Diethard pressed, quirking an eyebrow. "I am quite familiar with the man myself. At least, I was before his recent passing." Lowering his head, he put on a show of mourning the turquoise-haired purist soldier.

Nodding emphatically, Lloyd mentioned, "We both studied together at the Imperial Academy." A wide smile remained on his face; unlike the media man, he didn't bother to look upset.

The blond tilted his head. "That so? Well, I guess it really is a small world. And to answer your earlier question, no. All my memories are intact; however, one of my men who was supposedly guarding the van claims he doesn't remember anything during the reported time it was stolen." Pausing, he looked both the Special Corp soldiers in the eye and mused, "It is very strange. Nothing like that happened here yesterday?"

"No, not at all," Cecile assured. She narrowed her eyes at him, not knowing how to react to this man. He gave her a very bad feeling, and she couldn't help but think he was dangerous somehow. Even for a TV-man, he was asking too many questions. She wanted to get away, wanted to tune out his probing queries. "Is it about time to go out?" she asked, her happy tone strained by stress.

Diethard nodded. "Yes, I got what I needed here. And you say it was only you two in the lab when this happened?"

At the question, Cecile couldn't help but be reminded of and worry about Suzaku. The phone call from that one lady kept repeating in her mind, and she remembered the young pilot's frantic facial expressions and tones of voice. Was his girl— _boy_ friend all right? (Cecile knew she'd have to get used to _that_.) She thought herself silly, worrying with no concrete reason why, but Suzaku himself had been trying to hide his unease…

"It _was_ a lazy Sunday afternoon," Lloyd chirped in explanation, basically confirming a positive answer. No need to drag Kururugi into this media circus. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and peered down at his assistant. She had that saddened, anxious look gracing her face again, and the head scientist heaved a sigh before forcibly brightening. "Not much traffic through the Special Corp, you know!" he said, ending in another twirl. "Now let's go tell the world that my precious Lancelot was killed!"

Cecile groaned lightly and held a hand to her forehead. "Lloyd, the Lancelot is a machine; it can't die…"

* * *

Her first thought was that Lelou was dead.

It was the most logical conclusion based on his condition and the stillness of his body, but then she remembered she'd heard shuffling. Tensing, the orange-haired girl looked around. The late afternoon sunlight was fading into twilight, and the overwhelming fear of being caught unawares in the dark urged her to hurriedly flip on the electric lights. _I have to make sure no one's here. Someone could still be hiding; someone did this to Lelou!_ Bravely searching the locker room, she could see no one else in any of the partitions, so she deduced it really _was_ Lelouch who had made the rustling noise earlier, despite his extraordinary injuries. It just went to show that prayers were never answered the way one expected; she'd been praying to _find_ Lelou, but she hadn't been specific enough. _I should have prayed to find him alive and well,_ she cried to herself. _Now he's bloody and covered in…that's not what I think it is, is it? Oh god…_ "Lelou…?" she asked hesitantly, hoping he would at least turn his head in her direction.

Lelouch didn't move an inch, and Shirley's eyes glittered with tears. A slim hand reached out to the prone figure, but the girl snatched it back at the last minute, fingers curling into a fist. He was already hurt so very badly, and she wasn't a medical professional. No matter how she longed to reach out to him, there was nothing she could do. Her head snapped up, tears finally falling from the motion. No, she couldn't, but there were people out there who _could_. Shirley meant to dial 911 herself, but she found her fingers had automatically pressed the president's number into her phone.

Milly answered after the second ring, and Shirley could barely get her vocal chords to work. "E…mergen…cy," she sobbed, the word almost unrecognizable under the influence of tears and shock. "Lelou! Gym, boy's…" she hiccupped, falling to her knees at last. "So much…blood…" Her body started shaking, and she had a hard time hearing her friend over the roar of rushing blood in her ears. The only part of the following conversation she caught was that Milly would take care of calling the ambulance, and Shirley sobbed harder with relief that she didn't have to handle this alone.

Kneeling by her hurt friend, she whimpered his nickname repeatedly, hoping against hope that he would awaken on his own and somewhere reassure her that he was all right. "Say something, Lelou! Let me know you're alive! Please, Lelou…" _I need you._ Lelouch never stirred, and the minutes passed by unbearably slowly. An agonizingly slow wait ensued after she hung up with Milly; when the locker room door finally burst open, her breath caught in her throat. The paramedics…!

But no, it was only Suzaku.

A wave of intense disappointment washed over the shaking girl, and she had to shout at the equally distraught brown-haired boy that they couldn't move Lelouch. They could end up doing more harm than good, after all, and it wasn't worth the risk when their mutual friend was already in such a fragile state. Shirley didn't know how she kept her head to remember that, but worry for Lelouch consumed her and common sense overruled emotions—for the moment. She choked when Suzaku had the nerve to brush his fingers against that head of black hair, and a fire started coiling in her belly, twisting and burning her from the inside out. She was almost _gleeful_ when Lelouch flinched under Suzaku's touch—before a sharp sting of horror pierced her chest. She _liked_ it that Lelou didn't respond favorably to his so-called lover; how could she even… _Why…did I think that? At a time like_ _ **this**_ _?!_

But the fire of jealousy burned brighter when Lelou—Lelouch—murmured _Suzaku's_ name. How long had she been sitting with him, sobbing over him, begging him to speak to her? Three minutes; more? And how many times had he even shifted to acknowledge her presence? Not once! But for _Suzaku_ , he'd…

It wasn't _fair!_

She'd done _nothing_ but love Lelouch, been nothing if not utterly devoted to him for more than a year. Of course she understood Suzaku meant a lot to Lelouch; they'd been childhood friends, after all. But why did that have to morph into a _romantic_ relationship? Lelouch was supposed to be _hers!_ She'd wasted so much time being jealous of Kallen when really her true competition was the _boy_ right in front of her, the _boy_ trying to comfort her. Suzaku had even offered to ask Lelouch what he thought of her as girlfriend material. Had they been going together even then? But no, Suzaku wasn't _cruel_ …

 _Why_ was she thinking of this when poor Lelou was on the brink of death? _I don't have time to be jealous! Lelou could be slipping to the other side as we speak!_ But she couldn't help it, couldn't help the twisting knot in her stomach and the burning tears in her eyes when she looked at Suzaku… Her fists trembled in her lap.

That morning, when she'd confronted Lelouch about the topic, he'd been wary and resigned; at the same time, there had been a certain sparkle in his stunning violet eyes when Suzaku's name was mentioned. She'd only noticed because she was so practiced at reading him; anyone else would have glanced right over it. That sparkle was what had tipped her off to the truth, and she'd promised herself that since Suzaku obviously made Lelouch so happy, she would try to accept their relationship. However, that was under the unspoken condition that Lelou was safe and happy in Suzaku's care…but no, it was _because_ of Suzaku that poor Lelou was suffering…

Not only Lelou, but herself, everyone on the Council, and _Nunnally_ …

Rage and sorrow clogged her throat, and Shirley wanted to scream in response to the young blind girl's question. Suzaku's answer only made her tremble harder, and she glared at the brunet through watery eyes. _It's his fault._ His fault Lelou was hurt like this. His fault Lelou would never be hers. His fault, his fault, his fault…

* * *

"—even many Elevens blame Zero for disrupting the peace. And here to give us more information are the eye-witnesses to the terrorist attack yesterday!" the reporter informed.

The blue-haired researcher calmly appraised the situation and waited for specific directions from the media crew; the bespectacled, white-haired scientist alongside her waved cheerily and almost _pranced_ to his designated spot in front of the rolling camera. "Good _eve_ ning, everyone!" he bellowed, eyes shut behind his glasses. A lopsided smile remained on his face; one wouldn't believe he'd lost the love of his life just yesterday by the way he was acting. "My name is Lloyd Asplund, and I just want everyone to know that Zero is a scoundrel for destroying my precious Lancelot!"

Diethard narrowed his eyes, but made sure to keep his hands steady as he rolled the camera. The obvious anti-Zero atmosphere made him clench his teeth, but there was little he could do. He had to prove his loyalty to the Black Knights' cause without being open about it; maintaining such a balance was hard when his job demanded he criticize the terrorist group in a public forum. He'd already been demoted for promoting the Black Knights' propaganda…

"The 'Lancelot'?" the reporter repeated, jarring Diethard from his musings. "Is that the white Knightmare that's been all over the news?" At Asplund's proud nod, she went on to ask, "Then maybe you can answer a question that's been on everyone's minds! Just who was the pilot behind that machine?"

Lloyd looked taken aback, eyes momentarily wide and mouth drawn into a tight frown. "I hardly think that's important at the moment," he explained frostily. "We should be focusing more on the Lancelot itself. I know the Black Knights terrorize Britannia, but they _crossed the line_ yesterday when they involved my poor Lancelot outside of a fair battle. Why, I couldn't even gather data!"

"Lloyd, please," Cecile interjected in an exasperated tone, coming to stand alongside her superior. Looking at the camera, she smiled weakly and waved before addressing the previous question. "The pilot's identity will remain a secret until Second Prince Schneizel deems it unclassified."

The mention of the Royal Family was enough to deter further questioning in that direction. "Well," the reporter said, scrambling for words, "what are your plans now? Is it possible to fix the Lancelot, or are you going to turn your efforts to another project? Are you afraid the Black Knights will sabotage your future developments?"

The white-haired researcher grabbed his heart, bending over as if in physical pain. "Are you honestly asking if I'm going to give up on _my_ Lancelot?"

Noting the incredulity in his voice, the reporter turned to her fellow media crew for cues. "No offense meant, sir," she apologized.

Before anything more could be said, two distinct ringing sounds sliced through the air. One was the trill of a cell phone attached to Cecile's hip; the other was the siren of a speeding ambulance.

* * *

"What do you mean 'failed'?" Nunnally asked, almost hesitant but desperate to know the truth.

Suzaku hunched over, squaring his shoulders, and couldn't bring himself to voice a proper answer. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "Sorrysorrysorry…" _Lelouch, I swear to you. I will find whoever did this and…_

Milly moved from her place beside Shirley, gently laying a hand on Suzaku's shoulder. "You couldn't have known," she consoled him. "None of us could have imagined that someone in the school would go this far." She took a closer look at Lelouch's legs, and her lip quibbled. Not many things could make the strong Milly Ashford actually cry, but the sight of her friend's broken body was enough to reduce her to tears alongside Shirley and the others.

The Japanese boy inhaled sharply, not having anything to say in response to the blonde president's reassurances. It _was_ his fault, no matter what anyone else said. Lelouch had needed him, and he hadn't been there. Never mind the illogic of feelings and circumstances. He, Kururugi Suzaku, had failed the one he loved most in the world. _Lelouch, I don't deserve you._

"Will someone _please_ tell me if my brother's okay?" Nunnally asked again, raising her voice. She trembled but managed to hold onto her wits.

Rivalz covered the young blind girl's hand with his own, trying to calm her down and offer some form of comfort. Lelouch was his best friend, and Nunnally had also become like _his_ little sister over the years. This situation called for a "big brother" role, and the black-haired teen was obviously unfit for the job at the moment; Suzaku was too self-pitying just now to even begin to soothe Nunnally's doubts and fears. Swallowing, Rivalz murmured, "Lelouch is…he is…"

"He's alive," Suzaku choked. _If he wasn't, I could never forgive myself._

"Yes, but," the disabled girl hiccupped, "that still doesn't explain anything."

The distraught members of the Student Council all looked to one another for help, not knowing how much to divulge to the poor girl or how to properly explain. Their eyes were wide and panicked, and their mouths opened and closed in mute silence. Just as Milly took it upon herself to wing some sort of answer, a weak cough sounded from the bench.

"…Don't worry…Nunna…lly…"

Everyone's attention snapped to Lelouch. He glared at his friends, almost daring them to tell his little sister about the direness of the situation. For Nunnally's sake, he had somehow managed to pull himself together. "I'm fi…ne…" he croaked. His friends gaped at him, disbelief coursing through their systems as the raven-haired teenager managed to speak. "Just a few…scratches…and bruises. Nothing to be…too upset…over." He forced a weak laugh through his lips. "Might need…crutches…for awhile…" he mused, making light of his obvious injuries. Though he could talk just fine, the overwhelming pain he was experiencing made it hard to focus on stringing words together. Still, it was impressive he could handle it at all; how long would this clarity last?

Suzaku's face fell. From the looks of his condition, it was doubtful the prince would ever walk again. But that was Lelouch: taking advantage of his sister's blindness to hide the ugly truths of the world. He'd always done that, the soldier remembered, like it was second nature to lie to Nunnally for her own protection. Suzaku had hoped the need for telling such lies had vanished with time, but life apparently wasn't done dishing out problems for the two siblings. Lelouch would always put his sister first, even when he was half-dead and delirious from pain.

"Big brother!" Nunnally cried out, scooting forward to reach his side. Her wheelchair rolled through a small puddle of blood, and Rivalz and Shirley both turned to halt her progress. The blind girl frowned, but she didn't protest the hands holding her chair in place. Turning her face towards her sibling, she pleadingly scolded, "You'd better not be lying to me!"

Violet eyes softened in the young girl's direction, and Lelouch lovingly reassured, "I'd…never."

The other members of the Council winced at the deception, but Nunnally ignored the increased tension in the room. "Oh, big brother," she whispered, and let the tears finally fall.

Suzaku felt his heart break even more under the weight of Nunnally's sorrow added to his own, and he determinedly pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going to help you, Lelouch," he promised. _I'll make things better._ He gritted his teeth, noticing a bloodstained knife on the floor across the room. It didn't take an idiot to realize where it had come from and Suzaku, despite popular belief, was no idiot. (At least not _all_ the time.) Staggering to the corner of the locker room, he reached for the knife; the ice in his bloodstream melted into burning rage as his fingers touched a weapon that had been used to inflict pain on his loved one.

"Lelouch," he choked, lurching back towards the bench where the victim was still tied. "Someone hurt you with this blade, but now I'll use it to set you free," he whispered softly into his prince's ear, his lips lightly brushing against the other's heated earlobe. Very carefully, he squeezed his fingers tighter around the knife's handle for a sturdier grip, then swiftly cut the cords biting into the ebony-haired boy's wrists and ankles.

Lelouch stiffened, and his breathing accelerated at the sight of that silver knife coming towards him again, at the rushed words and hot breath on his ear, at the proximity of another person so close to his head. His freed limbs automatically fell towards the floor, jolting him out of mindless panic; his muscles loosened and his eyes softened as he made the connection. _Suzaku._

Additional shocks of pain rushed up his arms and legs due to sudden movement after a long period in one strained position. The renewed circulation of blood flow was both welcoming and unwanted. Hissing, the former prince bit his lip. Violet eyes widened slightly when Suzaku knelt beside him again, took a limp wrist in both hands, and started to massage feeling back into his muscles. Lelouch's whole body started trembling instinctively, but the brunet persisted with his touch; after a few moments, the ebony-haired teen started to relax, his mind and body coming to terms with the fact that he wasn't about to be hurt—not this time. Without saying a word, he lifted his eyes to meet his boyfriend's determined gaze and briefly, shakily smiled his gratitude.

" _Who_ did this to you, Lelouch?" Suzaku asked at last, trembling with fury. Even enraged beyond measure, his touch was still gentle as he handled his wounded lover's wrist.

Everyone else in the room almost stopped breathing at the question.

The purple-eyed boy sighed, his gaze resting on the fallen blindfold. "I…don't know," he answered. "My eyes…were covered…entire time. Didn't rec…ognize…voices. Three males. _Britannians_ ," he spat.

"So this was because of me?" the Japanese boy pressed, green eyes tearing up again. "You got hurt because of _me?_ " It was unneeded, the unspoken, _Because I am an Eleven._

Lelouch mustered up the strength to glare. " _Idiot_ ," he hissed. "Had nothing…to do with you."

Shaking his head, the brunet leaned back away from the bench. "You don't need to lie to protect _me_ ," the soldier rebuked, flicking his eyes meaningfully in Nunnally's direction. _I need to protect you, not the other way around._

"Not lying," the obstinate prince retorted back, still glaring.

Suzaku pursed his lips, realizing it was useless to argue. Even when Lelouch wasn't in his right state of mind, he was stubborn. _Same old Lelouch,_ he mused; the thought made him smile something bittersweet. Still tenderly rubbing a pale wrist, he raked his eyes over his beloved's form, once more wincing at the gloppy come and spit caked to his face. He beckoned for Rivalz and Shirley to let Nunnally closer. "Why don't you hold your sister's hand?" It was a gentle suggestion, but one everyone knew not to argue against. The disabled girl wheeled closer, hand searching, and the brunet guided her to her brother. Lelouch's hand started shaking in his grip; the prince tensed, and Suzaku's breath hitched at the revelation: _He's even terrified of touching Nunnally!_

Simple physical contact was fear-inducing to the beaten prince, and simple physical contact was the most revered form of communication to the disabled princess. Before Suzaku could retract his words, Nunnally's fingers were already closing over her hurt brother's. Lelouch's palms were sweaty and cold when his little sister softly took them into her hands. After a few soothing strokes and shushing noises, the black-haired teen slumped on the bench once more, not having the willpower or energy to fight. Even under his sister's familiar touch, tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.

"What's taking so long?!" Shirley complained between sobs. The scene between Lelou and Nunna was too heartbreaking to witness. "The ambulance should have been here by now! Poor Lelou…" Her hands clutched at her hair, tears still pouring from her eyes. As she sniffled, she felt strong, comforting arms wrap around her, and she unconsciously leant into the president's embrace. "Oh, Milly," she cried. "Why did this have to happen?"

The blonde shook her head, tightening her hold on her friend. "I don't know," she whispered, soothingly stroking the younger girl's red-orange hair. "Bad things happen to good people, but don't worry. Help should arrive soon. Like you said, it's about time for the paramedics to get here. Nina and Sayoko should be leading them this way at this very moment!" Milly exclaimed, trying to be upbeat and positive for the sake of her Council members.

With Nunnally by Lelouch's side, Rivalz sank back against one of the locker rows. A cold feeling swept over him at the whole situation, and he hugged himself as he shivered.

Suzaku felt numb as he made a beeline for his own locker. He didn't know how he got it open; his vision was too blurry to see the numbers of his combination lock, and his movements were stilted and awkward. Somehow, he managed to get the door open and grab one of his graffiti-stained gym shirts. Luckily, the shower stalls were close by, and he hurriedly soaked his shirt with warm water from the nozzle. The roar of the pounding water was startling in the hushed silence; it felt too normal, too _natural_ a sound to fit the current extraordinary circumstances. It was all too surreal.

"Brother," Nunnally whimpered, clutching his cold hands tighter. "I'm so sorry you have to hurt like this!"

Her apology buzzed in Suzaku's ears, and the brunet soldier croaked, "No, Nunnally. _I'm_ the one who's sorry!" He sank to his knees once more at the head of the bench and tucked his index finger under Lelouch's chin; slowly, he turned his raven-haired lover's face towards his and felt his stomach drop once more at the lost, petrified look gracing those purple eyes. He caught Lelouch's gaze with his own, silently reassuring him, trying to prepare him for his touch. Holding up the dripping shirt, he let his boyfriend become accustomed to it before quietly explaining, "I'm going to clean your face now, Lelouch. Hold still for me." _Please don't be afraid of me this time._

Violet eyes fluttered shut in contentment when that comforting warm, wet fabric wiped at the filth desecrating his face. He gasped and flinched when the cloth swept over his eyes, but he relaxed when the pressure was elsewhere seconds later. The cleansing commenced with short, lingering strokes, effectively clearing his forehead, cheeks, ears, eyes, nose, mouth, chin, and neck of all manner of bodily fluids. With that done, the attention turned to his hair; Suzaku very carefully scraped every last gloppy drop from his wet-glistening hair strands. Cool air brushed over his damp, unsoiled face, and Lelouch relaxed further under its tingling clean caress.

"Is there anything more I can do for you?" Suzaku kindly asked, cupping Lelouch's now-spotless cheek. He gently slid his thumb back and forth under a violet eye, glad he wasn't spreading sordid fluids on his love's face by the action. The Japanese forlornly sighed, recalling happier times. _You would always blush if I touched you like this, my prince._ Not so this time—he was lucky if Lelouch didn't shy away out of fear, never mind embarrassment.

The prince still cringed at first, but he relaxed much more quickly under the brunet's touch. "Water?" he croaked, a hacking cough attacking his throat seconds later.

Suzaku nodded and leapt to his feet, fueled by the desire to make Lelouch as comfortable as possible despite the dire circumstances. He couldn't do anything about his love's legs; even with all his military first aid training, the ebony-haired teen's injuries were beyond him. Covering Lelouch's naked lower state was also out of the question since that might also do more harm than good; he didn't want to directly touch the wounds in any way. Better to leave that to the medical professionals. Once more rummaging through his locker, he snatched a thermos half full leftover from last gym class and flew back to his lover's side. "It's warm," he warned, swishing the water in the container.

Lelouch just opened his mouth, trusting Suzaku would pour the liquid down his throat. His hands were still busy being held in Nunnally's, so he couldn't take the drink himself.

The soldier inhaled sharply at the remnants of come on his boyfriend's tongue. Hand shaking, he obediently tipped the thermos and let the warm water splash down Lelouch's throat.

The prince instinctively swallowed, the water at once both stinging and soothing his esophagus. Suzaku slowly dragged out the process so he wouldn't choke; in a couple minutes, the thermos was empty and Lelouch's mouth was as clean as his face.

Some of the weight felt lifted off his shoulders when Suzaku traced green eyes over Lelouch's pristine facial features, his face softening at Lelouch's no-longer-so-panicked expression. _There, much better._ He might not be able to move or treat his hurt lover, but he could at least do this—these small things to make him more comfortable until the proper help arrived.

* * *

Three paramedics hopped out the back of the ambulance at the end of the street; the white hospital van could not get close to the high school's front gate with the media crew's equipment spread over the road. Flashing red lights lit up the dusk sky, and the wailing siren caused all present to clasp their hands over their ears. At the ambulance's approach, the media crew cut their coverage to go to commercial; it was perfect timing because Lloyd Asplund was not cooperating very well with their reporters.

"Clear the way!" the lead paramedic shouted as he ran, shooing bystanders and media people from the sidewalk. The other two followed with an empty stretcher. "Leave a path, thank you!"

Diethard Reid narrowed his eyes at the scene. Something had obviously happened at Ashford Academy, and the media was already conveniently at the site. They could get exclusive coverage—assuming whatever happened was newsworthy. He was jerked back to the Black Knights University Crisis when the blue-haired researcher—her name was Cecile Croomy, wasn't it?—answered her cell.

"Suzaku!" she exclaimed after a moment in a worried tone.

The blond media man's ears pricked at the name. 'Suzaku'? While he wasn't well-versed in the commonality of Japanese names, he recognized _that_ one. Could it be the person on the other line was _Kururugi Suzaku_ , the very first individual to be publically saved by Zero? He was, after all, a well-known Honorary Britannian, and it was big news when he'd decided to stay with the Britannian Army after it had been about to execute him for false claims. If by some chance it _was_ the same 'Suzaku,' then perhaps this information might be helpful to the Black Knights. Kururugi was their enemy, after all, and any dirt Diethard could get on him would be beneficial to Zero. With a smirk, the blond media man listened from the shadows.

Cecile—it _was_ Cecile, right?—smiled at something 'Suzaku' said. "You found him! Oh, that's wonderful; I'm so hap—" She cut herself short, eyebrows drawing together in anxiety. "What do you mean? You're not telling me that the ambulance out here is—yes, one just pulled up. It can't get to the front gate. There are too many news vans blocking everything off. But you're not telling me—your boyfriend—is he going to be okay?" She was silent for a long moment, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

Tapping his foot, Diethard discretely checked his watch. He needed to know the other side to this before he started jumping to conclusions; the Black Knights wouldn't appreciate false leads. This was taking too long. He needed factual information, not some gay boy melodrama.

Finally, Cecile spoke again, voice firm but understanding. "I see. Yes, of course. You simply _have_ to go with him; he's your boyfriend. He needs you by his side. I'll take care of everything with Lloyd. Yes, don't you worry about us, Suzaku. We can get along fine without you for a few days. You just focus on taking care of that boy of yours, all right?" After getting a response, she clicked her phone shut and turned to her boss, still crying a bit. "There's been a problem…"

* * *

"Who's going to ride with my brother in the ambulance?" Nunnally asked cautiously. The question came out of nowhere, and it prompted the others to start planning the immediate future.

Milly sent a watery smile in the young princess's direction, even knowing the blind girl couldn't possibly see it. "You are, of course," she answered.

But Nunnally shook her head, her hair swishing from the motion. "No, I'd only slow them down with my wheelchair. Someone else needs to go in my place," she hinted, turning to the side where Suzaku knelt by the bench. Even without sight, she knew where he was.

"Nobody else has the _right!_ " Shirley exploded. She stared defiantly at Suzaku, almost begging him to contradict her.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't Suzaku who defended himself against the implicit allegation, but Rivalz. "That's not fair, Shirley. Obviously, Lelouch trusts Suzaku enough to get into a…um, relationship…with him. That pretty much gives Suzaku here all the 'right' he needs." The blue-haired boy shrugged awkwardly, fidgeting by the dark locker rows.

"At least _I_ don't have _other obligations_ that could keep me from Lelou's side!" she cried, wringing her hands. The glare she sent the brunet was full of venom, and she roughly shook Milly's hand off her shoulder. She didn't _want_ to calm down.

Lelouch's breath hitched at the amount of pent-up fury in his friend's tone. What was she saying?

Suzaku's jaw tensed in anger at the accusation, but a suffocating feeling of hopelessness permeated his chest at the truth of her words. Shirley was _right_. If he hadn't had military duties, he could have been with Lelouch all day, could have prevented this from happening. He hung his head, brown bangs shielding his eyes. "You have a point," he admitted in a dull tone. If he wasn't already on the floor, he would have fallen to his knees in despair.

Shirley averted her eyes, looking to the ground. At the sight of Suzaku's crushed spirit, a small seed of guilt blossomed in her stomach; seconds later, it was strangled by the twin weeds of jealousy and self-righteous anger. He deserved to suffer. The emotional turmoil he was experiencing didn't even measure to an _eleventh_ of what Lelouch had suffered on his behalf. "How dare you," she hissed, though her voice was a lot more anguished than biting.

"I won't let it happen again," Suzaku vowed, lifting his head. Emerald fire burned in his eyes, and he swiftly stood, casting one longing look at his lover. There was a hard edge to his voice when he spoke, and his fists trembled at his sides. "I won't let anything keep me from Lelouch. If I have to quit the military—"

Milly, Shirley, Rivalz, and Nunnally all gasped at the proclamation. Stunned violet eyes widened, and Lelouch felt his heart flip in his chest. He must still be delusional, because Suzaku did not go around saying—

"—then so be it. Some things are more important than revolution. Lelouch happens to be one of them, at least to me." Ignoring their shell-shocked faces, he marched past them to the door, digging for the cell phone in his pocket. "If you'll excuse me, I'll get right on that." The only reason he would leave Lelouch at a time like this was so he could ensure he'd never have to again. He quickly slipped out the door, leaving the heartbreaking scene momentarily behind him. Heaving a sigh, he rubbed the back of his palm over his eyes and tried to compose himself before making his call.

"Miss Cecile, it's me," he managed in a low tone, completely devoid of emotion. If he didn't keep it all at bay, he'd burst under its weight. It was too soon to handle all at once; he was numb for the sake of social necessity. "We…found him…my Lelou—" His voice was strangled, and it hurt too much to finish vocalizing his lover's name. He couldn't do it, not when he was the only one keeping himself together, alone in the hallway and backed up against the wall, crushed by shame and drowning in guilt. "It's my—" he choked, giving in to his emotions and sliding down the wall until he was hunched over on the floor, one leg stretched in front of him. Wrapping an arm around his bent knee, he shuddered and cried inside at the thought of admitting his ultimate failure to an outside party.

Forcefully, he ground out, "No, it's not…he is…he's _hurt_. Very badly." He wiped at the tear streaks on his cheeks, gasping at the mention of the ambulance. He was so very grateful Cecile could read him so well, so very grateful she explained what was going on outside without him needing to actually _ask_. He clenched his teeth at the mention of the television crew, his head buzzing with rage. Lelouch was _severely_ injured, and the media was causing problems so they could have their little field day about the Black Knights. Who cared about Zero and terrorism when Lelouch was possibly dying?!

"I don't know," he moaned in response to her concerned question. "He looks…awful. I don't know if he'll—if he'll ever walk again…there's blood everywhere and he's just…I _need_ him to be okay, Miss Cecile, but what if he's not?! I can't—what I mean is—I need to be with him! More than anything. It's not so much that he needs me as that _we need each other_."

The desperate teen sighed in relief at her reassurances; he wasn't going to question his good fortune. If the military could be understanding about this, then maybe he wouldn't have to all-out quit. Giving up his idealistic plan so suddenly was rash, but for Lelouch's wellbeing and his own sanity tied in with that… Softly, he murmured, "I'll do my best to look after him. Thank you." Just as he finished bringing Miss Cecile up-to-date, three paramedics rushed by.

They charged into the boys' locker room, Suzaku quickly scrambling after them. Drawn to the victimized prince by the scent of blood and the sight of the surrounding students gathered around him, they dashed to their patient's side. "Stand aside," one of them ordered, not unkindly. "We need room to work here."

Sayoko followed, then stopped to gasp as her gaze fell upon her charge's beaten older brother. A hand flew to her mouth, and her chest heaved. Bile churned in her stomach. Even as a nursemaid well-established in the health business, seeing Master Lelouch in such a vulnerable and bloody state was shocking to the core. "Oh, Lady Nunnally," she cried, stepping next to Rivalz to help move the disabled girl out of the paramedics' way. "This couldn't be because…"

"This is because of _him!_ " Shirley shrieked in a sudden fit of anger, pointing a condemning finger at Suzaku as he walked back through the door. "It's because of _you!_ If you hadn't pursued Lelou, then this never would have happened!" She was shivering, and the tears poured down faster than ever. Her voice was scratchy from screaming at such a high-pitch, but that didn't stop her from unloading all her insecurities onto the Honorary Britannian soldier. Now that she was getting over the shock, she needed someone to blame—someone conveniently close by, someone who was (even indirectly) involved with the situation.

Huffing, the prince raised his head to pin the raging girl with his stare. He could understand if she was upset, but did she have to behave like this? Did she have to force these lies down his beloved's throat? Getting in the middle of this was the _last_ thing he wanted to do, but he couldn't ignore it.

The Japanese boy deflated even more at the words; the orange-haired girl was just confirming again the conclusion he'd already come to. In a distant part of his mind, he was grateful to Shirley; he could always count on her to tell him the truth of the matter. "I know. I'm sorry," he whispered raggedly, his apology lost in the turmoil. _You have_ _ **no idea**_ _how sorry I am._

Shirley sniffled, not noticing her precious Lelou's angry gaze; her voice cracked. "I was going to forgive you. I thought I could eventually be _okay_ with the two of you…being 'together'…but that was when I believed you were _good for Lelou_. But look at where being with you has landed him!" she yelled. It didn't matter that she was contradicting Lelouch himself; in her mind, at that moment, Suzaku was just as responsible for Lelou's current condition as the students who had committed the crime.

Suzaku bowed his head in submissive acknowledgment. He was too busy accepting the other's words that he didn't notice his lover defend him. His throat clogged with emotion again, and he couldn't see past the haze of tears in his eyes. No amount of apologies could heal his lover. _I'm beyond redemption._ Shirley's rant was just reminding him of that crucial truth.

Lelouch twitched on the bench, using his friends' argument as a distraction from the paramedics' painful work. " _Shirley_ ," he warned, purple eyes blazing.

The orange-haired girl took a quick step back at the sharp reprimand, crying out at the look in those violet eyes. "Lelou…"

The paramedics filtered out the drama going on around them to focus on the injured boy. Quickly and carefully, they lifted him onto the stretcher they'd carried in with them. After that was done, they covered him with a light, white sheet. Immediately, blood started to soak through the fabric where it stuck to his legs. They frowned, but they knew they didn't have the proper equipment to treat his injuries; they'd have to get him to the nearest hospital. It was also surprising that the boy had awoken already, and that he hadn't moaned once while they were handling his broken body.

Thus, it was that Lelouch Lamperouge (vi Britannia) was paraded across the grounds of Ashford Academy on a stretcher—a bitter mockery of a prince raised high on a royal litter.

* * *

"Um," Nina stammered into the microphone. The Hi-TV news crew had cornered her by the front gate as soon as the paramedics had stepped onto school grounds. Nunnally's nurse had already gone, leading the hospital professionals to the gym. The spastic genius teenager was going to follow—until a reporter blocked her path.

The blonde anchorwoman smiled, flashing her teeth at the camera, and repeated her question. "Do you have any idea why the ambulance is here? This is supposed to be a pretty safe school. I'm guessing there was a sports-related injury—or maybe a student fight that got out-of-control?" the media woman suggested hungrily. "The fact that an ambulance showed up at this particular high-class school is pretty big news. Wouldn't you agree? Why don't you tell me everything you know?"

Nina clenched her skirt in her hands and turned embarrassedly from side to side. "Today," she said in a quiet voice, her face contorted in fear.

"You'll need to speak up a bit," instructed the anchorwoman. She smiled at the student encouragingly.

The bluish-green-haired girl hesitantly smiled back. "Today," she repeated in a stronger voice right into the mike, "a student was attacked for involving himself with one of those _Elevens_." She shuddered with revulsion.

The reporter hummed in her throat. "I see. I take it you're not a fan of Elevens?" she pressed.

"Of course not!" Nina answered, aghast at the very possibility. "I don't understand why he did it. I definitely don't think the boy should have been…attacked…because of it, but yes, I'm of the mindset that he made the mistake of associating himself with someone like _that_. Elevens are dangerous! Don't you remember how they hijacked the hotel at Lake Kawaguchi? I was _there_ , so I _know_ what I'm talking about. Elevens are _violent_ ; just look at the Black Knights! I don't see why _anyone_ would willingly hang around them." Though normally scared to talk, Nina was elated to be sharing her passionate views on the subject. No one on the Student Council agreed with her stance, but maybe here, on the news…

"Strong words from a student!" input the reporter, beaming into the camera lens yet again. "Do you have any idea who attacked this boy?"

Nina shook her head, her long braids swinging from the motion. "We just found him. No one knows anything yet."

Disappointed, the blonde reporter's face sank. "I see. We'll just have to stick to this story until more details come out." She turned to fully face the cameraman and raised her voice. "Here at the prestigious high school of Ashford Academy is taught the balance of Britannians and Elevens in society. Have these teachings become too rigid, too ingrained in the minds of students? Do they invoke physical violence among today's youth? Despite the ongoing terrorism led by Zero and his Black Knights, some people still believe violence is the answer. Even a normally peaceful school reflects dangers so prevalent in modern society at large." With the speech done, the media crew cut to commercial until further information became available.

* * *

The Student Council members trailed along behind the paramedics. Milly made sure to lead Shirley away from Suzaku, sensing how both of them were too emotional to think rationally. Rivalz stuck by the Japanese boy's side, lending silent support. Sayoko took up her normal duties of caring for Nunnally. It was an impromptu buddy-system, but everyone was secretly grateful for the set-up. Facing what happened to Lelouch was too much of a burden to carry alone.

Suzaku's hands were shaking as he followed the bobbing stretcher. Looking down, he noticed he was still clutching the come-and-graffiti-stained gym shirt. Disgust welled in him, and he angrily flung the dirtied clothing into the nearest trashcan just outside the main school building. He felt freer once he'd rid himself of the contaminated cloth, as if he were somehow throwing away a fraction of his and Lelouch's problems.

Too lost in thought, nobody on the Council realized they'd reached the front gate until there were flashing lights in front of their eyes.

"Look! It's the victim student! According to our previous source, this boy was attacked for getting too close to an Eleven," reported the blonde, gesturing at the raven-haired boy on the stretcher. The cameraman obediently swiveled to get the hurt schoolboy center-screen.

A gust of wind ruffled the sheet, and Lelouch's pale face became clearly visible under the spotlight. His eyes were closed, and sweat still dotted his brow. Ebony strands of hair were splayed over the edge of the stretcher, contrasting the sheer white of his tense face. The lower portion of the sheet was stained red with blood, visible even in the twilight.

Suzaku froze. Miss Cecile _had_ warned him the media was present. The news crew was the reason the ambulance was so delayed! Fingers clenching into fists, he took one giant step towards the blonde reporter lady, but a strong grip on his shoulder pulled him back.

"You can't go against the entire media," Rivalz pointed out. "If you get involved, you'll only make things worse. Stand back—for Lelouch's sake, as well."

The tan boy growled. "How can I stand back? He needs me! They're going to ruin everything!"

Blue hair swished as Rivalz shook his head. "Look, man, I know how you feel. But trust me, Lelouch wouldn't want you exposing the entire truth on TV. If you step in, they'll link you to the incident."

"How can you think so clearly?" Suzaku asked, half-annoyed at the logic presented. He hated logic; he was a feelings person. Right now, he ached to be with Lelouch, to be holding his hand, to be riding in the back of the ambulance with him…

"Someone has to," the blue-haired boy said quietly. Finding Lelouch in such a state was wearing on his nerves, and tears still pricked the corners of his eyelids. So far, he'd done a good job of holding back, trying to be strong for Nunnally's and Suzaku's sakes. His body felt tired, strained, and he wanted desperately to be in his empty dorm room so he could let go in private.

Suzaku clapped a hand on his friend's back, a silent gesture of thanks, and squeezed into the crowd, leaving Rivalz by his lonesome. He'd get to Lelouch one way or another, and he'd do it without drawing unnecessary attention to himself. _Wait for me, my prince. I'm coming._

The cameras dutifully followed Lelouch. The live news broadcast ran, and on the chessboard, pieces started to move.

* * *

 **-End Chapter-**


	4. Chess Pieces

Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass. I do not make profit from writing this fanfiction.

 **An unrated version of this story is on my AO3 account (NeoDiji) and linked on my Tumblr (NeoDiji).**

A/N: Chapter 4 is the same regardless of where it is posted.

Thank you ever so much to all those who have reviewed, favorited, followed, etc. :D

Chapter 4 is largely unchanged from its original version, for those who remember the story from several years back.

No active trigger happenings, but references to what happened in Chapter 1 (so still, beware violence and gore, sensitive situations, adult material overall). Nothing that needed to be watered-down, though.

Recap: On the chessboard, pieces started to move…

*/*

Chapter Four – Chess Pieces

*/*

At the Black Knights' Headquarters, Ohgi Kaname stared at the national news station. His friends from the original resistance team were gathered around him, their eyes all glued to the widescreen television in their mobile base. The room was dark save for the glow of the TV screen. The coverage of their own operations involving the Lancelot Knightmare had abruptly switched to coverage of a hate crime committed at the prestigious Ashford Academy.

" _What?!_ " Tamaki shouted, jumping to his feet in rage. "How _dare_ they stop reporting on us?! What, are the Black Knights not important enough to be your number one story anymore, you Brit shits?!" He swung a punch at the television screen, but Yoshida quickly intervened and held onto his elbow.

Ohgi rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, the story about the beaten student _just_ happened. It's actually breaking news, and they said the attack had something to do with the balance of Britannians and Elevens in society. Let's keep watching, guys." He leaned forward on the couch, resting his arms across his knees. Looking around, he tried to gauge the reactions of the other Black Knights. Then, his face paled. "Kallen! Kallen, what's wrong?!"

The reddish-pink-haired teen was gaping at the screen, aquamarine eyes wide with shock. Her face was white as she bit her lip, nodding towards the screen where the camera had zoomed in on the Britannian victim's face. "That's…Lelouch…"

Ohgi, Tamaki, Minami, Yoshida, Sugiyama, and Inoue all stared at the teenager with various expressions of shock and sympathy; they'd forgotten their youngest member attended Ashford Academy as a student.

Angry red splotches colored her cheeks. "He's the vice president of the Student Council," she explained. Everyone knew by now how close Kallen was to the students on the Council. She personally _knew_ this boy, was possibly friends with him… "Lelouch was the one who openly stuck up for Kururugi Suzaku when he started going to school there. Even if he's lazy and unmotivated, and even if he's a smart-ass, he's not _that_ bad of a person." Kallen clenched her fists, angry tears gathering in her eyes. "I can't believe he was so brutally attacked. I bet this has something to do with how he's best friends with Suzaku…"

Ohgi sighed and laid a hand on Kallen's shoulder. "He'll be fine," he assured her, mentally willing his words to be true. Even if the kid was Britannian, he didn't deserve to be beaten like that. "You can go visit him in the hospital. They'll catch the ones who did this. Maybe even Zero would want to investigate; I mean, you know how he is about being the ally of the weak, 'whether they be Eleven _or_ Britannian.'" Pausing, he narrowed his eyes at the television screen and claimed, "From what it looked like to me, that boy—Lelouch, you said?—was certainly the victim here. He seems like the poster boy of what Zero wants to protect: a powerless individual caught up in the injustices of a prejudiced society."

"Wow, Ohgi," Yoshida joked after a terse silence. "You've been hanging aroun' Zero too much lately if you're spouting speeches like that."

The second-in-command blushed and ducked his head. "Maybe he is wearing off on me," he admitted sheepishly.

"We won't worry 'til you start walking around in a cape and mask," Sugiyama added with a laugh.

Staring into space, Kallen asked, "Do you think Zero will really want to get involved?"

"He might," Ohgi said, shrugging helplessly. "Sometimes I don't get how his mind works."

"Speaking of him, Zero never did tell us why he intervened yesterday to save Kururugi," Inoue pointed out, changing the subject. "I mean, sure, Kururugi is Japanese, but it still seemed a bit off compared to how he normally does things. He hasn't contacted us with our next instructions like he said he would either."

Ohgi heaved a sigh and wearily rubbed his forehead. "I called him about ten times throughout the course of the day. No answer." The original resistance leader stared at his comrades helplessly and reminded them, "He made a long speech yesterday about how we had to move up our time schedule since we didn't _utterly_ destroy the Lancelot. He said we had to move quickly, starting tomorrow—er, that's today by this point—and it's too late now to carry out another operation. We have nothing planned."

"All we can do is wait," Kallen said, though she also sounded a bit uneasy at the suggestion. "Zero always contacts us when he's ready."

Ohgi nodded. "That's true. In the meantime, we can look over the information that Britannian man sent us. It's from the same source who told us about Narita." He reached for the papers and flipped through them, skimming the pages before sharing, "In his report, it looks like the Britannian Army has plans for the captured remnants of the JLF. He was right about everything last time; should we trust him this time, too?"

Tamaki huffed and flopped back on the couch. "He's _Britannian,"_ he said, as if that alone decided the trust issue.

"Not all Britannians are bad," Minami pointed out, pushing his glasses further on his nose. "Take that Ashford student, for example. He got beaten just because he was friends with a Japanese."

Sneering, Tamaki had to offer his opinion. "Yeah, well, if that Brit brat was friends with _Kururugi_ , I can't say I blame the dudes who beat him up. Good for them! The boy must be a whopping idiot. Who'd want to get close to that _traitor_ anyway?!"

Minami glared at the exuberant redhead and stressed, "Listen, Tamaki, the boy's _Britannian_. He doesn't have a reason to hate Kururugi like you do."

"They were childhood friends," Kallen butted in. "Apparently, they were very _close_ as kids, just as they are now." She, too, glared at Tamaki. "And I happen to know Suzaku from the Council. I can't say he's my favorite person in the world, and I don't agree with some of the decisions he's made, but he _is_ kind of my friend, all right? I believe he's got his own reasons for staying with the Britannian military."

Tamaki growled. "Geez, first _Zero_ protects the traitor, and then this Brit boy sticks up for him and gets attacked, and now even Kallen's defending him! What the hell did Kururugi do to deserve all this?!"

Ohgi held up his palms, trying to placate the angry hothead. "We can't really judge Kururugi. I'm sure we just don't understand the full story here."

"There's nothing to understand!" Tamaki roared. "He turned his back on his people and sided with the goddamn enemy! What's there to understand?!" He leapt to his feet again, and not even Yoshida could restrain him this time as he swung at the wall. "Damned Brit bastards, damned traitors! You can't trust 'em; gimme my good ol' loyal Japanese any day!"

The second-in-command rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You know, now that I think about it, didn't Zero say _he_ wasn't Japanese?"

Tamaki growled and took another swing at the wall, hysterically sobbing out of frustration. "Zero betrayed us yesterday, too! He wouldn't let me kill Kururugi!"

"That's got you really upset, huh?" Sugiyama asked, soothingly patting Tamaki's back.

"You heard Zero," Kallen said. "He was completely in the right! If he'd ordered it, I would've done whatever I had to, but I'm glad Zero intervened. I didn't want Suzaku to die yesterday either."

Inoue tilted her head. "Yeah, but you know Suzaku from school. _You_ have a personal reason for wanting him alive."

Nobody dared ask aloud: _What was Zero's excuse?_

*/*

The crowd effectively hid Suzaku from the cameras, but it also made it incredibly hard to chase after Lelouch. Defeated, he stopped running. People jostled him to and fro, but his eyes were trained steadily on the ambulance at the end of the street. Lelouch had just been loaded into the back, and nobody was with him to hold his hand. Not that the finicky prince would want such a thing, but Suzaku wanted it. He swallowed thickly, willing back the tears. The pesky media crew was closing in on the ambulance from behind, but at least now the back door was shut and Lelouch's beaten unconscious body was hidden inside. Eyes swimming, the Japanese youth watched as the emergency vehicle roared to life, sirens blaring, and sped towards the nearest hospital—taking with it the most cherished center of his torn heart.

As soon as the ambulance was out of sight, a squad of police cars turned onto the street.

Completely numb now that Lelouch had been whisked away from him, the brunet stared listlessly as the police force ordered for the cameras to be turned off. A bit too late to do much good, Suzaku thought dimly, but it was something nonetheless. He watched the police officers disperse through the crowd, and he tensed at the irrational fear that they'd happen upon him and link him to the incident. He was an Eleven in a crowd of Britannians, and it wasn't as if he hadn't been the scapegoat before. In the back of his mind, he heard someone calling his name, and he jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder. Blinking the tears out of his eyes, he turned his head and forced a sad smile onto his face. "Hi, Miss Cecile," he croaked, and even uttering those few words caused his face to twist in grief.

Immediately, his compassionate coworker drew him into a comforting hug, tucking his stricken face into her shoulder so he could release his inner anguish. "There now, Suzaku. The doctors will be able to help your boyfriend. Now, let's get you to the hospital." Offering a reassuring, soft smile, Cecile waited for the teen to gather himself and then carefully led the distraught boy out of the throng of people.

"How?" Suzaku asked in a low voice, wiping at his eyes. "The ambulance already left."

Cecile hugged him again. "Lloyd and I will take you." Her face brightened when Suzaku lifted his head, hope and gratitude shining in his eyes like starlight. "We're going to stand by you, of course," she promised. "Right now, you need all the support you can get; you need to know you're not alone." Breathing deeply once they were at the edge of the crowd, Cecile went on, "Lloyd should be bringing the Lancelot's transport any moment now."

His heart warming at the Special Corp's devotion to him, Suzaku felt a tiny, genuine smile form on his lips. Sometimes being around Cecile and Lloyd made him feel like part of a family—a very dysfunctional family at times (Lloyd was _hardly_ 'father material'), but a family all the same. "Thank you," he murmured, keeping his eyes peeled for the large gray truck. On the other side of the street, he noticed the police entering the school gates. Squinting, he determined them to be following a couple of recognizable schoolgirls, and a little of the anxiety in his stomach uncoiled at the thought that he wouldn't have to face Shirley Fenette at the hospital anytime soon. (Their battle for Lelouch "Lelou" Lamperouge would be postponed. Not that _that_ was critical at the moment anyway.)

"Master Suzaku!"

Both the Japanese pilot and Cecile turned to see a Japanese woman pushing a young blind girl in a wheelchair around the outer perimeter of the crowd. The sky was steadily getting darker, and the streetlamps flickered on, illuminating the growing throng of bystanders.

"Wait please, Suzaku!" Nunnally pleaded as they drew nearer. "Miss Sayoko told me the ambulance already left! Is my brother safe?"

Wordlessly, Suzaku nodded. Then, realizing his mistake, he knelt by the blind girl's side and laid a reassuring hand on her knee. "Your brother is on his way to the hospital," he confirmed.

"You're not with him," Nunnally said wonderingly. "Don't listen to Shirley; she's just upset. Nobody blames you at all, Suzaku! I know my brother doesn't. He even woke up to tell you so; that means you have to listen to him, all right?" Forcing a giggle, she dropped her palm on top of his hand and squeezed, trying to give back some of the comfort he was giving her. Regardless of her efforts to stay strong, tears still poured from her unseeing eyes. As she bravely lifted her head, the streetlamps bathed her forlorn face in a soft golden glow.

"I understand," the soldier promised earnestly. Anything to appease Nunnally. "And of course I know Shirley's upset. She has every right to be." He paused, then muttered despairingly, "That doesn't mean her words aren't true, though."

Letting the familiar self-blame comment slide for the moment, Nunnally pressed, "How are you getting to the hospital? Miss Sayoko and I need to go, too, and she says it's too dangerous to walk the streets tonight." The excited murmur of voices and passionate yells split the air, and the bustling crowd made the disabled princess shiver.

Sure enough, now that Lelouch was out of the picture, the exclamations of "poor boy" that fell from people's lips were replaced by jeering shouts:

"Down with Elevens!"

"Elevens inspire violence!"

"This is why we shouldn't let Elevens be a part of Britannia!"

"Elevens ruin everything!"

Already the story was being twisted, and the Numbers were made out to be the evil villains. Even though it was a case of Britannians beating a Britannian, the majority of the crowd could not find it within themselves to label their own people as the wrongdoers. Not when there was an "Eleven" element to the case, despite the fact that the Eleven in question was not at all involved in the actual attack.

The little group at the edge of the throng winced. Nina's words on-camera had affected the mob's mentality, and it was threatening to turn violent.

"Let's get out of here before it turns ugly," Sayoko suggested. "Master Suzaku, you and I might not be safe here for very much longer."

Suzaku nodded as he stood, then took a protective stance in front of Nunnally. "Nothing's going to happen," he promised. "Not this time. I won't let it." Steel glinted in his eyes as he looked at his surrogate little sister, and he wondered how she could be so pitiable and yet so very strong. He would do anything to protect her fragile strength, just as he would do anything for the person who completed their trio.

Cecile smiled tenderly at the sight of Suzaku acting as big brother to this handicapped young girl. She beamed wider when she noticed Lloyd pulling up in the Lancelot's transport. "We have room to take the two of you with us," she offered, beckoning the Japanese nurse forward with her charge. "We'll be at the hospital in no time."

"Right, come on," Suzaku added, effortlessly swooping Nunnally into his arms. "Lelouch is waiting."

*/*

The news coverage was switched off in the Britannian Government Bureau in favor of a private communications channel with Second Prince Schneizel.

"Why are you coming to Area 11?" Cornelia demanded, hand on her hip. "I know Zero beat us at Narita, but at least we smoked out the Japan Liberation Front. That is a small victory. Next time, I won't fail. Zero will fall." A line of soldiers stood at attention behind their viceroy, careful not to move an inch. Guilford and Darlton respectfully stood behind the Second Princess, arms at their sides.

The older royal sibling only smiled, sensing the root cause of her anger. "Ah, Cornelia. I am not coming to assume your duties. After all, how could I ever compare? Area 11 is in _your_ capable hands." Still smiling, he held up his own hands and started swishing them back and forth in extravagant gestures, explaining, "I just want to personally monitor the Special Corp under my command; I will not interfere with your plans. Besides, I had arranged to make a side trip to Area 11 soon anyway. Please don't think I am coming to replace you; that is _far_ from the truth."

Blushing, the fuchsia-haired princess lowered her head. Schneizel's praise always did get to her. "I understand." All the fire left her voice, and her tone was brisk when she asked, "When will you be arriving? I'll be sure to arrange an escort to meet you."

"There's no need," the blond prince reassured, stopping the gestures to hold up a gloved hand in protest. "My airship is traveling faster than anticipated; I should land in Area 11 in a few hours." He glanced off-screen for a moment before turning back to his half-sister and adding, "First thing tomorrow, I will visit the university where Earl Asplund is conducting his research. I will limit my activities only to the matters which concern me."

Cornelia's lips twitched upwards into a small smile. "You'll have to see Euphy while you're here. She misses you so."

Schneizel tilted his head, leaning his cheek on his knuckles. Purplish-blue eyes twinkled and he teased, "And you don't, fairest Cornelia?"

The blush on the Second Princess's face deepened, and she hurriedly changed the subject. "I have business matters to attend to this evening. I'll see you when you arrive," she snapped, completely flustered, and promptly terminated the connection.

*/*

Viletta Nu dropped her dinner plate. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the schoolboy on the television screen: it was the same Ashford Academy student she'd been searching for since the incident in the Shinjuku Ghetto. With a determined glint in her eye, she watched the rest of the news and planned. She smirked. With this information, she could take steps to claim her nobility.

*/*

Rivalz could only stare at the spot where Suzaku had disappeared into the crowd. Hadn't he just gotten through telling the impulsive brunet not to be reckless? But no matter; Suzaku was going to do what Suzaku wanted to do. The media was still interfering, and if he couldn't stop his friend, he'd just try to stop the news broadcasting industry instead.

…yeah, that would totally be easier than stopping Suzaku.

"Excuse me," said a blond Britannian man to his left, tapping him on the shoulder.

The blue-haired student looked his way and groaned when he saw the camera in the man's hands. Well, at least he had a start.

"My name is Diethard Reid, and I have a few questions. I couldn't help but notice that you were just standing with the infamous Kururugi Suzaku." Feral blue eyes stared down at the younger Britannian, and the cameraman's hands twitched in excitement.

Rivalz gulped. "You're right, that was Suzaku," he said. "What's it matter to ya?" he asked, trying to be tough.

Diethard smiled, though it wasn't a friendly smile, by any means. "Just to be sure, is that the same 'Suzaku' who was accused of murdering Prince Clovis?"

"He didn't do it!" Rivalz erupted. "If you're trying to make him out to have a bad record, you won't—I mean, he's perfectly clean!"

"The same 'Suzaku' who was rescued by Zero?" the oblivious TV-man blathered, too caught up in his own excitement to listen to Rivalz's prattle.

The student jerked back at the unexpected question. "Er, yeah, I guess," he mumbled. "But Suzaku isn't allying himself with terrorists either! He even fights against them as part of the Britannian Army!"

Diethard's smile fell. "I know that," he said stiffly.

"Then what do you want?!" Rivalz snapped. "If you're not lookin' to make Suzaku look bad, then what _are_ you here for?"

The Britannian Black Knights prospective member smirked. "A story."

*/*

"I warned you, Mao," the witch reminded him in a motherly tone—right before she shot him.

The mind-reader howled his pain to the ghetto and slumped to the floor. Blood pooled beneath his fallen body; it wasn't that uncommon in the backwater alleyways where the destitute Elevens scraped a living. People here were used to violence, and a little more bloodstain would hardly be noticeable come morning. The wounded man twitched in his own blood, stretching his arm out to his immortal obsession, fingers grasping at air as he wretchedly cried, "C.C.!"

With a slightly regretful smile, the witch tossed her long green hair and reprimanded her former contractor, "You should have listened to me, Mao. I don't love you."

"You…love that brat Lelouch!" Mao croaked with a glare, some of his long white bangs dipping into the blood and dirt on the floor.

"I don't," C.C. corrected calmly. "Lelouch is my accomplice."

Mao continued screaming as if he hadn't heard her; due to the pain in his gut and the multitude of voices in his head, he probably hadn't. "Well, Lelouch doesn't love _you! I_ love you! You belong _with me_ , C.C.! With me! With me! With me! With me! _With me!_ " He choked raggedly on his own breath, but his crazed red gaze was completely focused on the only 'human' to ever grace his life.

C.C. stared at him; for a brief moment, a pang of sadness flickered in her golden eyes. "No, Mao. You're wrong. I really don't belong anywhere, least of all with you." She turned away from the wounded man and spoke. "I felt my current contractor put in danger hours ago, but you held me here against my will. I listened to all you had to say out of respect for our past, but it's time enough I headed back to Lelouch's side."

"Why?" Mao called angrily, forcing the word through gritted teeth.

Averting her golden eyes, C.C. answered, "Because unlike you, he might actually fulfill his contract with me."

"He won't," Mao growled confidently. "There's absolutely no room in Lelouch's heart for _you_ ; it's completely full of his _precious_ Kururugi! He only cares about that damned Eleven!"

"I know that," C.C. said simply. "That doesn't change things at all." She looked back at him when she reached the edge of the alley, watching him stagger to his feet, try to chase her, and fall back down to the ground. Sighing, she turned once more and left. Out of pity, she hadn't shot to kill. She expected, sooner or later, that one of the Elevens would find him and extend a helping hand; by the time that happened, she hoped she was ready to deal with him for good. While she'd been set to meet with Mao the previous week, she'd backed out at the last minute. It took her extra time to even get as far as she did.

As she left, Mao started to shriek, "C.C.! Wait! C.C….C.C.! Come back, _you forgot me!_ " A heartbroken wail echoed through the ghetto, and his last words rang in her ears: "I can't believe I was replaced by a _gay little Eleven-lover!_ "

*/*

"Suzaku," Nunnally whimpered as soon as everyone was settled in the Lancelot's trailer. "You'd never lie to me, right?"

The brunet blinked at the sudden question before quickly composing himself. "Of course not," he assured, tone sweet yet firm. "Have I ever lied to you before?"

The young girl shook her head, light chestnut brown hair swishing from the motion. "Well, no," she admitted. "But I just need to know the truth, and you're the one best fit to answer. About my brother—he's hurt worse than he said, isn't he? I get the feeling from everything that's going on that he's got more than just a couple scrapes and bruises. Tell me; I deserve to know how badly he's injured! He's all I have!" The heart wrenching pain in her voice made everyone in the vehicle cringe.

Suzaku forced himself to breathe slowly. "I don't know exactly what's wrong," he managed with a croak, "but he is worse off than he made it seem. Please don't ask me to say anything more." Leaning his forehead against the cool glass of the backseat window, he stared out at the night, lost in thought for the duration of the short drive. Dread and fear were sucking the light of hope from his eyes, and the black holes they reflected blended in well with the darkness. He hadn't wanted to tell Nunnally, but it was best she be prepared for whatever the doctors found. Without fail, he'd be there. Whatever happened to Lelouch, Nunnally would not be without at least one brother.

*/*

"It's this way," Milly explained, gesturing to the policemen and crime scene investigators. "It happened in the boy's locker room by the gym. Shirley was the one who found him," the blonde continued, pointing to the orange-haired girl by her side. "I called 911 when she called me in tears; she was too in shock to talk much sense, so I just took over." She pushed open the door and held it open for the officials to pass through, then smiled encouragingly at her friend. "Everything will be all right, Shirley. I know you want to be with Lelou, but you can help him more right now by talking to the police and filing a claim."

Nodding, Shirley agreed and followed the uniformed men into that awful room that reeked of blood and prejudice. Upon seeing the bench again, sans a beaten Lelou, her mind froze and Milly had to shake her out of her state of shock. "Wh-what?" she asked, noticing a couple of the investigators were staring intensely at her.

"They asked you what happened when you…found Lelouch," Milly explained softly. "I know it's hard, but do you think you can tell us the details—one more time?" She smiled gently at the younger girl, leaving her hand on Shirley's shoulder for moral support.

The shaken girl managed a small nod, sniffled, and began. "It was l-late afternoon when I first came in here," she recounted, choking on a sob. "Maybe around…around 5:30," she clarified, wringing her hands. "We'd, um, split up to look for Lelou, you know, and the gym was my area to search! I smelled the b-b- _blood_ and followed the scent back here…and that's when I saw…I saw…the bloody footprints by the door. No one else was here! It was just me and L-Lelou... _Lelouch_. And then later, Suzaku came, and then everyone else on the Council came. I didn't see anyone else!" she cried and leaned against the taller girl.

The police looked at her pityingly and milled around the room. "What condition was the victim in when you first saw him?"

Shirley doubled-over as she recalled the image of Lelouch, bound, bleeding, and broken—stained with blood and other unmentionable fluids, body twisted and beaten. Chest heaving, she forced the description from her lips, being sure not to leave out a single detail.

"There was semen on his face," repeated an investigator, making a note of it. "Were there any other indications that the victim had been raped?"

Milly and Shirley looked at one another helplessly. "I just saw…on his face…" the orange-haired girl stammered. "His lower body wasn't exactly, you know…recognizable…"

One of the policemen pointed at the aluminum baseball bat on the floor, careful not to touch it with his bare hands. "This looks like the main weapon."

"There's a knife," said another, indicating the second fallen torture-tool.

"I'm done taking pictures of the crime scene," said one of the investigators, putting away his camera. "Feel free to move things around now. I'll take a few blood samples for testing at the lab."

One of his coworkers nodded. "I'll get the weapons, then," he said, carefully slipping on a latex glove. "So my fingerprints don't leave traces on the evidence," he explained, noticing the two girls' confused expressions. "The gloves are necessary so I don't tamper with the materials used as evidence."

Milly bit her lip, glancing at Shirley out the corner of her eye. "I'm afraid it might be too late for that. You see, our friend Suzaku already touched that knife…"

*/*

At Mount Fuji, the Six Heads of the Kyoto House sat and discussed the Black Knights' latest operation.

"They made good use of the supplies we gave them," remarked one of the Japanese resistance funders. "Zero just might be the savior of Japan we've been waiting for. With him leading us…!"

Kirihara pressed the pads of his fingers together as he looked at the others. "Yes, Zero has done well," he acknowledged in a slow voice. "I expect nothing less than miracles from that man in the future. However, though we are lucky the Black Knights are gaining ground, the Japanese resistance movement overall was dealt a heavy blow by the capture of the JLF."

"True," muttered another. "At least Tohdoh and the Four Holy Swords managed to escape at Narita."

Nodding, the head of the Kyoto Group spoke. "Perhaps Zero is already on the move. He has already cleared the stage of Britannia's greatest weapon, and he has severely damaged their research and development institute." He stopped to take a deep breath, arguing, "With both Narita and this latest attack, the Britannians will be thrown into chaos once again. Now would be the perfect time to attempt a rescue mission; Zero is smart enough to realize that."

"At the same time," said one of the others, "Zero is too valuable now to risk. He might not think the JLF is worth the odds of his own organization."

"But the risk is limited without that white Knightmare in the picture," pointed out another man.

Shrugging, the other said, "That is a matter of perspective."

"Don't lose trust in Master Zero!" piped up a young female voice from behind the slotted doors. "Zero will come through for us. He's Japan's rising hope."

Three of the men glared at her. "That's not what we're discussing, Kaguya! Learn to hold your tongue until you have something worthwhile to contribute to the conversation. None of us are arguing Zero's abilities; we're merely debating how he will prioritize them."

Kirihara lifted a hand for peace. "Calm down. Bickering will get us nowhere. I've tried to contact Zero today, but I've had no luck. I've also spoken to the man Ohgi, the second-in-command of the Black Knights; it appears he can't contact Zero either. For now, we're in the dark about his plans." He grabbed a nearby remote and flicked on the television. "For the moment, let us see how the Britannians are reacting to yesterday's operation."

Bowing their heads, the members of the Kyoto Group watched the news in silence. The TV blared, "Now replaying footage of the shocking attack from earlier this evening…"

Kaguya gasped when she recognized the, albeit older, face of the Britannian prince who'd lived at the Kururugi Shrine so many years ago.

Kirihara silenced her with a sharp glance and clenched his fist on the floor, a sense of bitter understanding flooding his awareness. _What have you gotten yourself into now, Zero? Something that will interfere, no doubt, with your plans for the Japanese resistance? Since no one else knows your true face, I'll have to make arrangements..._

*/*

"We're here."

Suzaku was out the door before anyone else could move an inch. He sprinted forward a few feet before hurrying back to the trailer, remembering Nunnally was just as anxious as he. Hopping from one foot to the other impatiently—not excited, but nervous and fearing the worst—he helped unload Nunnally's wheelchair and hurriedly pushed her through the emergency room doors.

"He didn't even thank me!" Lloyd complained. He shoved the keys in his pocket.

"He's got a terrible lot on his mind," Cecile said soothingly. "You can't blame Suzaku for being a bit mixed up right now."

Lloyd hummed, "That boy has always been a bit messed up in the head."

Cecile frowned in his direction. "Lloyd, please!" she said, completely exasperated.

"I can't help it if it's the truth," the bespectacled scientist whined, wriggling his hips as he danced across the parking lot.

His subordinate only sighed and held a hand to her forehead. "It's no use," she lightly complained.

"No use at all," Lloyd agreed happily, a cheeky smile gracing his lips.

Cecile stared long and hard at her rather unique boss before deciding to ignore him. Turning to the Japanese nursemaid, she pleasantly asked, "Have we met?" Cocking her head to one side, a strand of blue hair waved in the night breeze. "Your voice seemed very familiar back there."

The hospital doors swished open as the three adults reached the entrance. Sayoko immediately shook her head, keeping her eyes respectfully lowered. "I don't believe so, milady. I think we spoke on the phone earlier today. I called looking for Suzaku."

"That's right!" Cecile exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "And you don't need to worry about formalities with us. _We_ don't look down on Elevens. I'm Cecile Croomy." She stopped walking and extended her hand, smiling politely.

The Japanese woman followed suit, grasping the Britannian researcher's hand in her own and shaking it gently. "Shinozaki Sayoko," she introduced herself. Her tone was still reverent when she said, "I'm always happy to meet people as kind-hearted as Master Lelouch."

Lloyd's head snapped in Sayoko's direction. "Did you say 'Lelouch'?" he asked, interrupting their conversation. Icy blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and then he turned to stare at the crippled, blinded teenage girl.

Sayoko nodded. "Master Lelouch has quite unusual views, but that's because—and don't tell him I told you this—his heart is in the right place." She giggled quietly, nodding over towards Suzaku and Nunnally who were huddled together in the waiting room.

"I see," Cecile answered back, clear blue eyes twinkling with understanding. "Suzaku as well."

Bursting in-between them, Lloyd looked back and forth between the two women and asked, "If I may guess, is the girl there named 'Nunnally'?"

"Yes," Sayoko answered, taken aback by the question. "Why, do you know her?" She blinked in confusion, mouth open slightly.

Lloyd grinned but didn't offer a response, and Cecile gazed worriedly at him as he rudely turned his back.

*/*

Lieutenant Colonel Tohdoh stopped in front of a television in a store window. It was just after nightfall, and the street was almost deserted; most people were probably safe at home, eating dinner. He couldn't hear through the glass of the window, but he could see and what he could see was horrifying. A blob of text ran in a marquee across the bottom of the screen ('repeated footage'), but his attention was fixed solely on the Britannian teenager's face flashing at him from behind the window.

His best soldiers, the Four Holy Swords, also stopped so they could see what piqued their leader's interest.

"That boy," Tohdoh Kyoshiro murmured thoughtfully. The beaten Britannian boy featured on the news tugged at his memory, and his mouth set in a grim line. "I thought you died during the invasion," he mumbled to the Eleventh Prince on the screen.

"Sir?" Chiba asked, stepping forward. "What's going on? Do you know that Britannian on TV?"

Tohdoh didn't answer for a few seconds, but finally he turned to his most trusted confidants. "I used to," he admitted. "He was listed as a casualty when the war broke out."

"He might be a casualty now," Asahina said thoughtfully.

Senba stared critically at the screen again. "But he's young as it is! He would have been merely a child when the war broke out, sir."

"And he's Britannian," Urabe said. "How did you know him?"

Chiba folded her arms across her chest. "This is all very interesting," she said before Tohdoh could answer, "but the Britannians are very likely looking for us. We can save these trivial discussions for a later date. Right now, we need to move." She froze up and glanced guiltily at the lieutenant colonel. "I apologize, sir. I don't mean to undermine your authority."

Tohdoh shook his head. "No, it's nice to know I have soldiers who can prioritize. You're right: we can't afford to stand here and risk capture. If the Britannians take us, the rest of our comrades in the JLF won't stand a chance." He motioned with his hand for his soldiers to pick up the pace.

"We need to rescue them!" Asahina agreed enthusiastically, always ready to support his colonel. He led the way down the street, looking over his shoulder as he asked, "Are we staying here near the Settlement, sir, or are we going to see Kyoto?" The others followed, moving away from the store they'd been gathered around.

The colonel closed his eyes as he came to a decision. "Most likely, Cornelia is holding the JLF at the Britannian Government Bureau in the Settlement. Since time is of the essence, going all the way to Mount Fuji would be counterproductive. We're too few to split up, so we must stick together."

Chiba added, "But we need to find a place to plot our next moves in secret. Since our rescue plan will take place here, finding a nearby hideout would be best."

"The Japanese in the ghettos should cover us," Urabe suggested. "We need to decide on a place to hide; we're wandering aimlessly here."

Tohdoh's fingers twitched. "There is another option, but not one I'm too keen on pursuing." Furtively glancing around to make sure no one was listening, he said quietly, "Zero and his Black Knights. They're the largest resistance group in this area, and they'd have the most resources to help us."

"But, sir!" Asahina protested. "It's _because_ of Zero that General Katase and the others were captured. The rumors are that it was his doing that the mudslide occurred, and you saw how the Black Knights retreated and used the JLF as distractive bait for the Britannians!"

Tohdoh lowered his head. "Yes, I'm aware of that. That's why I don't want anything to do with the Black Knights. But we might have no other choice; we have to consider what's best for the others."

"As far as resources are concerned," Chiba started.

"We call Kyoto," Tohdoh finished for her. "They might very well have instructions and equipment for us. If they don't, Zero is my back-up plan." When his soldiers agreed, he glanced back once more at the television screen. "I wonder," he murmured to himself as he followed, "just what that prince has been up to recently to deserve _this_."

*/*

The sharp sting of antiseptic invaded Suzaku's nostrils as he rushed through the front entrance to the emergency room. He wrinkled his nose, but steadfastly plowed on to the front desk. "We're here for," he panted, "Lelouch Lamperouge."

"He just came in an ambulance," Nunnally piped up.

Casting a cool, indifferent look at the two distraught teens in front of her, the secretary informed them, "If he was just brought here in an ambulance, the doctors will be busy working on him. You're going to have to wait out here until he's stable enough to see you." When they didn't leave right away, she added a cold, "Sorry," and turned back to her paperwork.

Suzaku glared at the top of her head and slowly wheeled Nunnally away. The waiting area was dotted with hard, plastic chairs, and he sank into an end seat, making sure Nunnally could fit beside him. Glancing around, his eyes landed on a miniature television in the corner of the room; to make his night even more perfect than it already was, it was running continuous, looped news footage. He couldn't get a break; Lelouch's battered body flashed on the screen every few seconds, reminding him of the dire reason he was there in the first place. At least the sound was muted.

To avoid looking, he buried his face in his hands and trembled violently. Once more, he was so close to Lelouch, but he was turned away. He hunched over further in his chair. Breathing deeply, he choked on the scent of alcohol wafting in the air. The hospital smelled so clean and fresh, but the overpowering stench of cleanliness was nothing more than a cover-up to hide the smell of rotting, decaying death.

Nunnally rolled a bit closer, her hands blindly finding Suzaku's shaking body. Without a word, she laid her head on his shoulder to wait out the night. She hoped that with their combined strength, they'd be able to make it.

They were soon joined be Sayoko, Cecile, and Lloyd, though neither teen acknowledged their presence.

It was still and silent for an hour. Then two. Then three. They didn't sleep, merely sat there and waited. And waited. And waited. Other families came and went, sticking to themselves in their own separate but similar grievances.

"Suzaku?" Nunnally asked at last, her voice cracking due to both disuse and cracking sobs.

The brunet mechanically turned his face to the crippled princess. "Yes, Nunnally?"

"How do you think he's doing?" she ventured hesitantly.

Suzaku had to blink three times as he processed her question. "I think he's fine," he said slowly, testing the words on his tongue. "He's in good hands right now." _Hands that aren't mine._

"I know, but…"

The Japanese teenager shushed her gently. "He's still back there, which means that the doctors have found things to treat. If he was a hopeless case, they'd tell us in the beginning." He swallowed thickly. "It's a good thing they're being careful with him." In all honesty, he harbored the same doubts as Nunnally, but he wasn't about to voice them. "We just have to be patient." It was an order to himself just as much as it was to the other, and a shudder ripped through his body as his ultimate fear plagued his mind.

"All right," Nunnally said trustingly. Then, "Suzaku?"

Again, he answered, "Yes, Nunnally?"

"You don't still blame yourself, do you?"

Suzaku froze and marginally lowered his head. "I should have been there to protect him," he finally managed. It was a slightly evasive answer, but Suzaku was sure Nunnally was used to those, living with Lelouch and all.

"Well, don't," Nunnally ordered firmly. "Nobody else blames you. My _brother_ doesn't blame you."

For once, emerald eyes were dry. "Your brother isn't in his right mind."

A frown flitted onto the princess's face. "You aren't either," she pointed out. "You said you'd quit the military." Lloyd fell off his chair at this declaration, arms and legs flailing. Not noticing the wiggling mass under her wheelchair, Nunnally continued, "You'd _never_ say that under normal circumstances. I know because Lelouch is always complaining that you won't, and he so wanted you to, even in the beginning."

Suzaku sighed and gave a half-hearted shrug. "It's different now," he said quietly. "My being in the military might have cost Lelouch his _life_."

Nunnally shook her head. "Even disregarding what you just said—about how he's not in such a bad state or else they'd tell us to pay our last respects already—your military duties had _nothing_ to do with what happened. How could you have known? The blame doesn't rest with you _at all_."

"She's right, Suzaku," Cecile cut in gently. "Everything she's saying is the absolute truth. Just like what happened to the Lancelot isn't your fault either." She shared a concerned look with Sayoko, ignoring Lloyd's frowning face of protest, before saying, "However, now might be a good time for you to take a leave of absence anyway. After all, with the Lancelot destroyed right now, you wouldn't really have a job to do." She looked at his still-passive face and admitted, "They're both extreme circumstances—the Lancelot and your lover. It does seem a bit weird how the timing worked out, but don't question fate. You can take time off to be with your boyfriend on one condition: Stop blaming yourself for all the bad things that happen around you."

A dry, racking sob welled up in Suzaku's throat. It hurt worse to be told he _wasn't_ at fault, and he was free-falling without the familiar clutch of guilt he was so used to relying on. The rush of this new possibility—that he _wasn't_ to blame—was dizzying, and he closed his eyes against the earnest faces of his companions. It was his fault. It had to be his fault—because he was utterly helpless if he wasn't.

Shock and murderous rage burned in his blood when he thought of the Britannians who'd done this to his beloved, but he had no way of expressing his tumult of emotions—not when he had no clue of their identities, not when he couldn't find them for revenge. He had some ideas, but he couldn't follow up on them at the moment while he waited on news of Lelouch's condition. He himself was the only punching bag he had available at the moment, and thus his rage turned inward and intensified. Guilt and shame were his way of life, and making a commitment to abandon them would hurt worse than slicing off his own limbs. Suzaku could live without his essential body parts, but he could not live without the anchor of self-blame which tied him to his own distorted reality.

But wasn't that the point? To _die_ for his sins?

No. Not since Lelouch reentered the picture. Not since Lelouch accepted him—despite his flaws, despite his being an Eleven…

Not since Lelouch loved him.

And not since he loved Lelouch back.

*/*

"Who's there?" called a voice in the darkness.

The intruder hesitated, then gathered her courage. "I am Euphemia, Third Princess of the Empire." There was no pride in her voice at the title, only a glum recognition of her royal status.

"Why would a princess like yourself be down here all alone?" jeered another voice. "This prison sure is dirty for a pretty little thing like you to be mucking through!" Raucous laughter erupted from every corner of the underground holding cell, voices bouncing off the stone walls.

Euphy paused, suddenly unsure. These men _were_ the enemy; maybe she had been a bit hasty in ditching her bodyguards. She wasn't exactly able-bodied like her older sister, and she didn't know how to physically defend herself. That was why Cornelia wanted her to have a personal knight.

"Silence!" thundered the first man who'd spoken. "Princess Euphemia has done nothing to us, so save your anger for when it matters." He was quiet for a moment before he politely hinted, "However, I must admit I am also curious why you would be visiting us. Are you passing on a message from your sister? Is it time for our executions?"

Euphy shook her head, then realized he couldn't see her in the dark; there was barely enough light to find her way along the main corridor between the cells. Why hadn't she thought to bring a flashlight or a candle? She'd been in such a hurry to escape her guards that she hadn't thought things through; she wasn't smart like her older brothers Schneizel and Lelouch. _They_ would have accounted for the darkness beforehand. "I just wanted to talk," she said weakly. Suddenly, saying, 'I wanted to make sure you were all comfortable down here,' seemed a bit silly. They were war prisoners, after all, and Cornelia was known to be ruthless.

A contemplative silence reigned. "I see," said the leader's voice; he must have been the leader if he ordered the others around. "Of course I'd be happy to share words with you, if that is what you wish, Princess." His soldiers growled and bit back muffled curses, but he steadfastly ignored them. "I am General Katase, and I lead the Japan Liberation Front."

"It's a pleasure," Euphy said demurely. She twiddled her thumbs and leaned against a dank wall, glad for the solid support. Replaying his words, she withheld a gasp with slight effort. He'd said, 'I _lead_ the Japan Liberation Front,' present tense—not 'I _led_ the Japan Liberation Front.' The General was subtly letting her know the JLF wasn't beaten down yet, even if their position was dire as being held captive by the Empire. These Japanese would fight to the end; their honor demanded it, and Euphy found herself impressed with their resolve. At the same time, she wondered, "Why do you fight? Wouldn't it be better to try to get along with us Britannians?"

"Naïve child," sighed the General. "After how the Britannians have treated us over the years, it is impossible to forgive their conduct." He let his words settle in the air before saying, "Of course, that doesn't excuse Kusakabe for how he handled the hotel jacking. You have our sincerest apologies about that matter; neither I nor Tohdoh authorized his little stunt."

Euphy giggled nervously. "I understand. That's what I'm trying to say, though: being Japanese or Britannian doesn't automatically make someone a good person. Not all us Britannians are so bad either. I just want us to get along." A forlorn sigh escaped her lips, and she tilted her head towards the ceiling.

General Katase smiled to himself. Idealistic fool though she was, her heart and intentions were pure. "If you can come up with a failsafe way to make it happen—to make Britannia truly respect our freedom as Japanese—then we will be equal and I will stand by you. But remember, right now, you are our oppressors, and to acknowledge you as anything but would be foolish."

"Right," Euphy replied. "Thank you, General. Just to let you know, my sister isn't planning your executions just yet; she has other plans for you."

*/*

It was shortly after midnight when a doctor stepped out from the back and called, "Lamperouge?" He was weary from the long hours spent working on his patient, and it showed in his graying hair as it stuck up in unkempt tuffs. Blood spattered the bottom of his white medical robe, looking rust brown under the bright electric lights. His light hazel eyes, though tired, were alert as they searched the waiting room for the correct party, and he glanced down at the clipboard in his hand to be sure he got the name right.

In a millisecond, Suzaku was in front of him, face drawn and tense with anticipation. Dread filled his features, but he bravely met the doctor's gaze. "You have news on Lelouch?" he blurted hopefully, eyes glossy and pleading. "How is he? Can I see him yet? Is he awake?"

The doctor offered a wan smile at the desperate youth and waited for the rest of the Lamperouge party to gather 'round before motioning them all into a private back room. It was very cramped and, with Nunnally's wheelchair, almost impossible to fit everyone inside. The brunet pilot took the only available seat.

Right away, Suzaku extended his arm. Frenzied green eyes bore into the doctor's hazel as he asked in a panic, "You need blood, right?! I'm Type O, so take however much you need!" He wobbled, even though he was sitting down; his nerves were too high-strung. "Lelouch is Type A if you need to match him—but only after you take my blood first!"

Staring at him in disbelief and mild horror, the doctor slowly pushed Suzaku's arm away from him. "We, uh, don't need to do a blood transfusion, young man. It may have looked like your friend there lost a lot of blood at first glance, but medically speaking, he is quite safe in that regard. I, er, thank you for your enthusiasm and generosity, however…"

Suzaku seemed to deflate, but then he perked right back up at the mention of Lelouch's stable blood supply. That was good news.

"Mr. Lamperouge was extremely lucky in a lot of regards," the doctor started, though his voice remained professionally detached instead of encouraging. At least he wasn't being deliberately cold like the secretary. Politely waiting for the sighs of initial relief to pass, he went on, "Starting from the top, there's a nasty bump on the back of his skull. There's some swelling and bruising, and we'll need to monitor him for awhile to make sure he isn't suffering from any serious brain injury. He woke briefly during the procedures and he seemed very with it for someone sustaining so many injuries, so that gives me hope that his head, at least, will heal just fine. As I've said, though, it is too early to tell for sure at this stage."

"He woke up earlier, too," Suzaku recalled. "His mind was really focused, but he had trouble speaking."

Nodding, the doctor explained, "That's common for concussions: having trouble speaking. I still take it as a very good sign that his mental awareness seems to be unaffected by the blow."

Nunnally smiled. "That's my brother," she stated proudly. "Please continue, doctor."

"His neck is bruised, but again, nothing that won't heal with a little time. There are some deep scratches and indentations around his wrists and ankles, which he informed us was from being tied up for a few hours. In a few days, those will heal with no problem. There is a slight crack in his left hipbone." Here the doctor paused and scratched his head, taking a long, steady breath before meeting a desperate jaded gaze. He continued matter-of-factly, "There is also a deep cut in his left buttocks. From the depth of the wound, I predict there will be scarification as it heals. I'm not sure the scar will ever completely go away. We're lucky in this case that the buttocks are comprised mostly of fat cells."

The roomful of people only nodded, not knowing what to say. Suzaku looked at the floor and had to ask, "That last wound you mentioned. Is it in the shape of a certain _number_?"

Tired hazel eyes rested on the shaking brunet. "Yes, dear boy. Something tells me you already know what it represents."

Suzaku nodded firmly once. "I do, sir. It's an Eleven…" He lowered his eyes and mumbled, "…like me."

"They cut an '11' into him?" Nunnally asked, horrified. She reached behind her for her nurse, hot tears pricking her eyes as she processed this new information.

"Ahem." The doctor coughed politely into his hand to attract their attention. "Moving onto the main issue: his legs. After we got all the blood cleaned off and took some x-rays, we were able to get a clearer idea of the extent of his injuries. There are some minor scratches, but those will heal with time; those aren't what I'm worried about. He has several open, compound fractures, which means that his bones pierced through the skin. His right leg is significantly better off than his left. The connecting bones are clearly fractured in four places; as soon as the swelling goes down, we'll put his leg in a cast. It will take many months of monitored treatment, but his right leg will completely heal and eventually be as good as new." He waited a moment to let all this sink in; after so long of hearing nothing, now it was information overload.

Suzaku continued to stare at the doctor, waiting for the worst. At least Lelouch was alive. That was a huge, _huge_ plus.

Seeming to understand his thoughts, the doctor awarded him a tiny smile before continuing. "His left leg, however, is severely more damaged. I'm sorry to say that the upper half of his tibia and fibula are both completely shattered, as is his patella—that's the kneecap," he added for Nunnally's benefit, since she was looking a bit confused at the terminology. "His left femur is cracked in multiple places in the back, but there are no clean breaks. There is a larger amount of internal bleeding and bruising on the left leg, and the open wounds from the knife scratches add to the risk of infection. The surrounding tissue is also damaged." He sat still in his chair as the others shuffled uneasily at the news. "His thigh muscles were also hit pretty hard, and some of the tendons tore loose. We had to do emergency surgery on his quadriceps muscle."

Nunnally quivered in her wheelchair but couldn't think of anything to say. She could only sit there and listen as the doctor rattled off her brother's injuries—like he was going down a shopping list. She knew he was just trying to do his job efficiently, but his voice was so cool and calm; it didn't fit the aching pain inside her, and she couldn't contain the hot tears that finally spilled over.

Suzaku stilled, a cold numbness washing over him. "Please tell me that's all," he said quietly.

"Yes. He was extremely lucky that they missed nicking the femoral artery; Mr. Lamperouge's condition would have been fatal if that had occurred," the doctor said, hazel eyes a bit lighter at revealing good news. Lelouch Lamperouge _was_ lucky. Then he commended them, "Also, since you were able to get him here relatively quickly, we had a head start on catching a lot of his would-be problems before they fully roared their heads. I'd hate to think of what would have happened if young Mr. Lamperouge hadn't been found until tomorrow morning."

"Is there anything you can do for his left leg?" Cecile asked after a time, since no one else was saying anything.

"At the moment, we have to wait to do anything. There are surgical options to consider, but we need to monitor him for some time before we resort to drastic measures. I'm sorry to say, but for the next several months at least, Mr. Lamperouge will be confined to a wheelchair," the doctor explained, hazel eyes flicking to Nunnally's own. Drawing himself up, he went on, "His right leg should heal just fine in a few months, and if everything is in order, we can perform a surgery on his left leg called open reduction and internal fixation. What we'll do is insert metal rods and screws into the preexisting bone fragments so the leg heals straight and sturdy; before we commit to that, though, we need to make sure the rest of his condition is stable enough to withstand such a procedure." He waited for nods to show everyone was on the same page. "We also need to minimize risk of infection. Even with that surgery, I'm afraid he'll have to make regular hospital visits afterwards for check-ups. Keep in mind we're talking months—years, even—of continuous treatment. Eventually, he should be fine, but it will be a very long road of healing and therapy; I'm afraid he'll never recover one-hundred percent from this beating."

Cecile nodded, her hand pressed hard against her chest. She didn't personally know this 'Lelouch Lamperouge,' but her heart went out to any person who was suffering such extreme injuries. "How long will he be confined to the hospital?"

Sayoko stepped forward before the doctor could answer. "I'm a trained nurse. I take care of his sister, so I'm fully capable of handling wheelchair patients."

" _I'll_ take care of him," Suzaku insisted. He swiftly stood from his seat, his wooden chair scraping the floor. Green eyes burned with determination and desperation; his fists clenched at his sides. "I'll argue with anyone who tries to tell me otherwise. _I'm_ the one who's going to take care of Lelouch."

"For now, the hospital staff is taking care of him," the doctor assured. "Since he has such extensive injuries and because there's so much we need to monitor in the meantime, he'll be here for at _least_ two weeks. After that, and only because this young lady is a registered nursemaid in his home, he'll be allowed to leave. When he goes home, he'll need to come in every other day for testing and physical as well as occupational therapy; depending on his progress as time goes by, we'll space out the times scheduled between hospital visits. Sound good?"

The others nodded. They couldn't really argue a professional medical opinion.

The doctor rubbed his forehead and said, "And there's one more thing: the matter of his belongings. We have his clothes and any objects that were on his person at the time of the beating. There are police officers and investigators here to speak with you, and they have one very serious question." Buzzing the grouchy secretary, he ordered for her to escort the police to the private back rooms.

Another moment passed before four uniformed officers crowded the doorway and asked, "Do any of you know why Lelouch Lamperouge carried a gun in his jacket?"

*/*

Rakshata Chawla tapped her tobacco pipe on her chin as she stared at the projector screen hooked up to her laptop. Her team of researchers swirled around her, but her sea-green gaze stayed locked on the news. It was a bit after midnight, but the uploaded news video links on the 'net were available at all hours of the day. If she was going to be stationed here, she might as well come to understand the current conditions of the area.

"Well, _this_ is our welcome to the Area 11. How depressing," she murmured, though her tone was more apathetic than saddened. She shrugged, nonplussed by the highlighted violence on the screen, and turned back to her beloved children.

*/*

"A gun?" Suzaku repeated. "He doesn't carry—I mean, I'd _know_ if Lelouch had a gun on him." In all the times he'd undressed his lover, not once had he found the raven-haired boy to be hiding a weapon of any kind. "It might have been planted there—"

The police chief held up his hand. "That's already been thought of, but even if someone put the gun in his pocket while wearing gloves, that doesn't explain why Lamperouge's prints are all over it."

Suzaku swallowed. Did Lelouch carry it for protection, just on the off chance someone discovered he was a prince of Britannia? But no, he couldn't voice _that_ or he'd risk spilling his friends' royal secret.

"We're going to have to question the victim tomorrow," concluded the chief. "We also need to know, doctor, if you found any evidence at all that suggested Lamperouge had been…" His eyes roamed the room, settled on Nunnally, and he delicately chose his word: " _forced_."

Suzaku gasped, remembering the fluids on Lelouch's face. Of course it had run through his mind— _maybe_ … But that was as far as he got; he couldn't handle entertaining the idea of his lover being _taken_ by the attackers.

The doctor's hazel eyes widened in genuine surprise. "No! Was he? There was no trace of anything on his body, and his…muscles down there weren't torn. There was no sign."

Nunnally's brow crinkled in confusion. "But you said his muscles _were_ torn."

"Different muscles!" Suzaku jumped in quickly, awkwardly patting her hand. "Don't worry about it right now, Nunnally." He laughed feebly.

Sayoko, sensing where this conversation was headed, quickly whisked Nunnally out of the room.

The policemen raised their eyebrows at the display. "A couple students at the school said he was found with 'traces' on his face."

The doctor hummed thoughtfully in his throat. "There was nothing there when he was brought in. Trust me, I'd remember seeing _that_ on his face."

Suzaku raised his hand. "You didn't because _I_ cleaned it." He sounded proud of himself, happy at the memory of making Lelouch comfortable.

Staring at him a long moment, the police chief inquired, "Are you, by chance, Suzaku?" At the brunet's nod, he frowned. "Why am I not surprised?"

The Japanese pilot frowned back. "Why?"

"You've tampered with evidence," explained one of the policemen. "We could have used semen samples to trace the identities of the attackers. We also might have been able to track them by using the fingerprints found on the knife, but your fingerprints cover them up. In that case, you would be considered a prime suspect for leaving your mark at the crime scene. The only reason we're not arresting you is because you have an authentic alibi, sworn to by three different eye-witnesses at the school and confirmed by a multitude of researchers at the local university."

Suzaku's pupils dilated at the accusations, at the absurd notion that _he_ would ever harm Lelouch. His body began to tremble, and his head buzzed. He slipped off the chair and started to hyperventilate; he could barely feel the solid tiled floor beneath his palms and knees. "No," he croaked, aghast at the mere speculation. "I'd never…no…I _love_ Lelouch! Even considering me at all is insulting!"

"They're just doing their job," Cecile rushed to say, kneeling next to the distressed teenager. "They were covering all possibilities! They've already cleared you of all charges!"

"There were never any official charges in the first place," placated one of the policemen. "The only thing you're guilty of is tampering with evidence. Since the other weapon—the bat—was school property, it has prints of almost the entire student body. It's of no use to us. Right now, we have no leads."

Suzaku slumped even more, pressing his sweaty forehead to the cool floor. This couldn't be happening. He'd only ever wanted to _help_ his lover, and again, he'd ended up doing the opposite. _Lelouch really does deserve someone better than me_. His eyes burned with the need to cry, but his tear ducts were overworked that night and the dry air scratched his corneas.

"Well," Lloyd joked, "at least we all know how Suzaku feels for his dear little sweetheart."

Suzaku twitched. Lelouch would _never_ stand for being referred to as Suzaku's 'dear little sweetheart.' "Stop it!" the pilot snapped, lifting his head to glare at his boss. "Just…stop! Shut _up!_ " The stress of the night was finally bending him in half, and right now he was too hurt and angry to care that he was yelling at Lloyd, that he was reacting to the mad scientist's provocations.

Cecile stared at Suzaku, shocked at his outburst. "We'll go now," she said. She cast one final saddened look at her young friend and vehemently yanked her superior from the room. Lloyd Asplund never was the cure for frayed nerves.

The police chief stepped aside to let them pass and then peered down his nose at the broken, sobbing mess of Eleven on the floor. "I'll return his affects to his family," he informed him callously and turned to find Nunnally. The others followed.

Heaving a sigh, the doctor pulled Suzaku to his feet. "Hush, boy. Lelouch is _alive_ , and isn't that the only thing that matters right now? Pull yourself together," he commanded, harsh only to pierce through the boy's thick cocoon of self-hate.

Sniffling, Suzaku's expression cleared. "You're right." It didn't erase his mistakes, but it made them seem less enormous. Lelouch was still here, and he could yet make things right.

*/*

"Cell phone, wallet complete with credit card and school identification, spare change, and a black king chess piece," listed the police chief. "I'm sorry, but we have to keep his clothes, the gun, and that photograph as special case items."

Nunnally nodded. "Of course. Thank you for giving me back what you could."

As soon as the policemen's footsteps faded away, Sayoko asked, "Do you want me to put your brother's things somewhere safe?"

The princess shook her head. "No, thank you. I'm going to ask Suzaku to hold onto everything for me."

*/*

Suzaku's cell rang before he could reunite with the others. Glancing at the caller ID, he sighed and reluctantly flipped his phone open. He wasn't exactly feeling up to passing on the news, but he knew the others deserved to know the details. "Hi," he muttered.

"Just calling for an update," Milly chattered hopefully. "It's been long enough you should know _something_."

The Japanese boy mumbled, "Yeah, we do. It's bad, but not as bad as what we first thought."

Milly's voice was excited over the phone. "That's good then—if he's better than we feared! We'd have come, but the police and crime scene investigators waylaid us."

"Yeah, I know," Suzaku moaned in irritation. "They _just_ came over here."

"Aw, don't be like that," Milly soothed, picking up on what was upsetting her friend. "You didn't know any better. We'll catch the ones who did this, just you wait! You'll see!" Her confidence did help up his spirits, but only minutely. "Anyway, we'll be by tomorrow after school to check up on Lelouch. And between you and me, Shirley's really upset over what she said to you. She's crying just as much for you as for her darling Lelou right now."

Stunned, Suzaku's jaw dropped. "I know she was just angry," he assured the blonde when he got his mouth working. "We both said and did things we didn't mean in the heat of the moment. I'll talk to her tomorrow and get it all straightened out." He paused. "Also, you mean _my_ Lelou. Lelouch."

"Yes, of course," Milly agreed quickly. "I'm sorry. That's going to take some getting used to." She swallowed audibly and chirped, "Anyway, the plan sounds good." She really must have been excited to hear that Lelouch was better than they'd thought. "We'll try to do damage control in class tomorrow, but this might be out of my hands. It's a pretty big scandal."

"I understand," Suzaku said hurriedly. "I appreciate whatever you can manage. Thank you."

Milly sighed happily over the phone. "You know, Lelouch is really lucky to have you, Suzaku."

The brunet paused mid-step, but before he could answer, the dial-tone sounded in his ear. He was left with her last words ringing in his head, and all he could do was disagree.

He disagreed the rest of the night; he disagreed in his restless dreams. He disagreed until dawn when those rather depressing thoughts were pushed right out his mind.

"Are you with Lamperouge? It's fine now. Lelouch is awake, and he wants to see you."

*/*

-End chapter-


	5. Lloyd's Story

Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass. I do not make profit from writing this fanfiction.

 **An unrated version of this story is on my AO3 account (NeoDiji) and linked on my Tumblr (NeoDiji).**

A/N: Chapter 5 is the same regardless of where it is posted.

Thank you ever so much to all those who have reviewed, favorited, followed, etc. :D

Chapter 5 is largely unchanged from its original version, for those who remember the story from several years back.

No active trigger happenings, but references to what happened in Chapter 1 (so still, beware violence and gore, sensitive situations, adult material overall). Nothing that needed to be watered-down, though.

*/*

Chapter Five – Lloyd's Story

*/*

"Oh, Lelouch!"

It was a little after dawn when Nunnally rolled herself to his bedside and blindly searched for her brother's face. He'd woken on his own and somehow ordered the nurses to permit him visitors, even though his condition wouldn't normally allow it so soon. Still, Nunnally didn't question it too much; her brother was known to be manipulative and persuasive when he wanted something. Her knees bumped into the lowly raised hospital bed, and cold fingers suddenly closed around her own, guiding her movements. Her brother's grip on her was shaky and unsure, and she realized with a gasp that he must still be scared of touch, but that he was forcing himself to endure it for her sake.

"I've never been so worried," the girl sniffled, lifting his palm to her face in turn. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "You promised you'd never leave me alone—that we'd always have each other."

"We still do," came the low, soothing voice of her brother. "I told you, Nunnally, I'm not going anywhere." His gentle touch never ceased to ease her worries, and the deepness of his voice calmed the undercurrents of lashing anxiety in her bloodstream. Even when he was completely lying.

The crippled princess glared at him as best she could, her face scrunching in acute displeasure. She felt his fingers twitch against her wet cheeks, and she scolded, "You lied to me. About how hurt you were. Why, brother?! You promised you'd never lie…"

Immediately, his fingers stilled on her face. "I didn't want you to worry," he said softly, and she caught the almost imperceptible note of disgrace in his tone.

"I worry more when you hide things from me!" she cried adamantly, pressing herself closer to him, leaning over the side of his bed. "You've been hiding so much lately, and I'm just so scared. And you're really hurt now. I don't want you to be in pain! I wish there was something I could do to help, but I could never help you—even before."

"Before last night?" Lelouch asked.

Nunnally said, "Before _everything_. Ever since we were—" she paused, wanted to say 'exiled' but settled on, "—little, you've always insisted on doing everything _by yourself_. You won't accept help from anyone, and you only _just_ started to let Suzaku into your heart again…"

Lelouch withdrew his hand, and Nunnally shivered on the outside of his mental barricade. He'd never shut _her_ out—at least, not like this.

"Letting people into my heart doesn't mean I need to let them fuss all over me," he gruffly protested.

"Part of being loved is to accept other people's help when they offer it," Nunnally countered wisely. "Otherwise, it's like you're rejecting their feelings—and I know you enjoy being loved, brother." She smiled a bit slyly and added, " _Especially_ by Suzaku."

She felt his cheeks warm under her palm. "Yes. Suzaku… Ah, but Nunnally, you'll _always_ be most important to me."

The princess giggled through her tears at his devotion, touched by it even after all these years. "You love me different than how you love everyone else, and you love Suzaku different yet. You don't need to explain." She lightly stroked his face, surprised to feel a matching wetness on his cheeks. "Brother, are you…crying?"

Lelouch growled, "No!" Indignant as ever.

She could sense the lie, feel it against her fingertips, but didn't press the issue. "If I'm that important to you, let me be there for you," she said instead, swallowing around the lump in her throat.

"I can't do that," he answered. "I can only rely on myself. It's my own body, Nunnally. You have to understand!"

"I _do_ understand!" the princess cried. Waving her hand downwards, she pointed at her own useless legs and said quietly, "I understand better than anybody, Lelouch. I didn't want to let you help me in the beginning, remember? But you were there for me, and you didn't leave me alone even when I wanted you to! I know I can't do all the things you did for me, but Miss Sayoko is a professional. You already know and trust Sayoko with _me_ , so why not with yourself? And you trust Suzaku with your body for…" she paused for a second, feeling the heat rise to her own cheeks. "…other things," she finished lamely, remembering their impassioned screams from down the hall Friday night. "So why can't you just accept help?"

Lelouch sighed, the sound weighing heavily on both their hearts. "I have my pride to consider," he said at last.

Nunnally felt her lips turn upwards gently. "You know, brother," she said, "just by talking to me and being honest about your feelings, you're already letting me help you. Thank you." She could feel the intense look he was surely giving her; the hairs on the back of her neck were rising under his gaze.

"…I'll let you win this one," Lelouch offered, a teasing smile in his voice.

Hearing his sheets rustle, Nunnally's smile grew. He could at least move his upper body, and for that she was grateful. "Thank you," she said again, patting his face.

If Lelouch wanted to say things like ' _let_ you win,' then she wouldn't call him on it. He had enough to deal with regarding his lost control, and she couldn't blame him for trying desperately to compensate.

"Nunnally?"

The blind girl turned to face him directly, judging his location from the sound of his voice. "Yes, brother?" she inquired softly.

There was another rustle of bed sheets before Lelouch kindly instructed, "Please look after C.C. for me."

Nunnally confusedly tilted her head. "C.C.? She's still around? I haven't seen her in awhile!"

"No one else knows about her," Lelouch admitted. "Not even Suzaku, not really—he'd recognize her by sight, but I don't think it'd be a very good thing if they officially met. Not yet anyway. Please don't mention her to anyone. She already knows you, so you're the only one I can ask, Nunnally. She'll probably show up at our suite soon because of…what's happened. I need you to be on the lookout for her and inform her of the details of the situation. Tell her to take care of things for me." He breathed another huge sigh and shifted again.

The crippled girl nodded, putting on a brave smile. "Of course I will! I'll even bring her to visit you…"

"No!" Lelouch shouted; he must have tried to sit up—and failed—because she heard the thump of his body hitting the hospital cot. "That wouldn't be such a great idea, Nunnally. Thank you for thinking of me, though. You're sweet as ever."

"Of course," the girl promised. "If that's what you think best…I'll ask C.C. to stay with me and Miss Sayoko while you're here. And in the meantime, if I'm not mistaken, there's a very upset boyfriend outside your door waiting to see you," she teased. "It's only fair since I got my time with you." Lightly touching her brother's face one last time, she wheeled herself towards the exit (as Lelouch narrated directions to her).

"Nunnally!" the recently beaten prince exclaimed. "One more thing."

*/*

"Who authorized the media to cover that?!" Cornelia was incensed. Her eyebrows were drawn together, and a worried crease lined her forehead.

Gilbert G.P. Guilford didn't flinch at the volume of her voice; he was used to working with the oftentimes loudly irate Britannian princess. "We're still investigating. Darlton is on it as we speak."

The Second Princess swirled around to glare at him, her mauve hair fluttering around her face. "The incident at the university should have been _censored!_ The truth of the matter will upset our public; the fact that Zero managed to sneak in another victory…especially so soon after Narita…" Her fisted hands trembled at her sides.

Guilford opened his mouth, then shut it without speaking. Princess Cornelia was just ranting, and right now she wasn't in the mood for excuses. So he silently watched her pace until Andreas Darlton entered the room.

"My lady," Darlton greeted. "I couldn't discover who exactly organized the media into gathering at the university, but the good news is that the coverage was cut short. There was another breaking story that happened basically at the same site, and the focus shifted to that since it was occurring live."

Cornelia's stern expression didn't fade. "I see. How much of the truth was leaked?" Immediately, she raised her palm and insisted, "Forget it. I don't want your answers; I want to see it for myself. Roll the coverage."

Nodding, Darlton flicked off the lights and flicked on the monitor. Cornelia slid gracefully into her throne and fixed her eyes on the screen.

" _My name is Lloyd Asplund, and I just want everyone to know that Zero is a scoundrel for destroying my precious Lancelot!"_

Cornelia glowered and rubbed her forehead. "That fool! Does he ever take anything seriously?"

Smiling sympathetically, Guilford reassured her as best he could, "He _is_ Lloyd Asplund."

"That doesn't make me feel better in the slightest!" the Second Princess snapped. "And with one sentence, he ruined everything. We could have come up with a proper cover story instead of admitting that Zero one-upped us." She was silent a moment before growling, " _Again_."

Darlton sighed. "It will be hard to do damage control now that Asplund has spoken; he is of high status."

"That's _not_ making me feel better!" Cornelia intoned harshly. She narrowed her eyes at the scientist on-screen.

" _I know the Black Knights terrorize Britannia, but they crossed the line yesterday when they involved my poor Lancelot…"_

Cornelia shook her head. "Does he _ever_ think about something besides that damn Knightmare of his?!"

Guilford bit his lip before voicing, "In his defense, Princess, it was due to Asplund's Knightmare that your life was spared at Narita."

"It takes more than a Knightmare to save someone, most of all me," the purple-haired princess explained frostily. "It takes skill."

Darlton tilted his head. "In that case, you should extend your thanks to Kururugi. His piloting skills are exceptional—"

Cornelia glared harder and interrupted. "Kururugi. The _Eleven?_ A well-bred princess of Britannia does not _thank_ Numbers. I already promoted that man; that's all he's getting out of me." She lowered her eyes and angrily tacked on, "I am _not_ Euphemia."

Guilford and Darlton shared a glance. "Anyway," the princess's closest advisor said, "the coverage ends early on. Look, all this time we've been discussing Asplund and Kururugi has been spent on the other story."

The Second Princess stared at the school in the background. "Is that Ashford Academy?" she asked, interest piqued and anger momentarily forgotten.

"Yes, my lady," Darlton answered. "Apparently, a student was attacked yesterday for befriending an Eleven classmate."

Cornelia's fingers twitched. "The Ashfords let Elevens into their school? I had no idea they were so desperate. I'll have to do something about that."

"Only Kururugi," Darlton hastened to add. "Don't you remember? Princess Euphemia personally requested they let him attend."

"I see," Cornelia said. "Yes, Euphy would do something like that." She paused, remembering Darlton's explanation, and had to ask, "You mean a Britannian other than my sister has befriended The Eleven?"

Nodding, Darlton answered, "It would seem so, my lady, and he has suffered for it." A glare settled on his features, though Cornelia understood it wasn't directed at her. "Kururugi is a good soldier; he's very capable. In fact, I'm willing to bet he's more loyal to Britannia than some natives I know."

The Second Princess sighed. "I'm aware of that, but that doesn't mean I have to like him."

Her two closest companions only nodded.

Another few minutes passed in silence before Cornelia jumped to her feet, face pale as she stared at the television. "No, it can't be," she murmured in shock. Her eyes were wide, transfixed, as she felt her way forward in an almost mechanical motion.

Guilford stared at the monitor, noting the blood leaking through the white sheet atop the Britannian victim. He glanced at the Second Princess and took a step nearer to her. Cornelia might have come across as a bit bloodthirsty to others at times, but he knew she wasn't truly cruel. The fact was proven with one look at her pale, drawn face. "Princess? Whatever is the matter?" he asked, concerned. He hadn't seen her this upset since Princess Euphemia was taken as a hostage during the Lake Kawaguchi hotel jacking. And he couldn't recall her ever showing compassion for someone she hardly knew.

Cornelia swallowed and said, without turning to face her knight, "Guilford, I want you to postpone our plans for the JLF."

"Of course, Princess," the black-haired soldier promised. "But might I ask why? We spent all night perfecting our strategies."

Cornelia only shook her head, her eyes still glued to the boy on the monitor. "Tell everyone I have a family emergency. And for goodness sake, where did Euphy run off to?!"

Darlton reported calmly, "She is accompanying Prince Schneizel to the university laboratory. Did you need her?"

"Her _and_ Schneizel," Cornelia corrected. "Guilford, patch a call through to them and tell them there's an emergency. Darlton, arrange transportation to the hospital this boy would have been taken to," she ordered.

"Yes, Princess," they both responded before hurrying to their assigned tasks.

Cornelia breathed deeply as she rewound the coverage and paused it on the beaten victim's face. The story behind the news coverage was buried under the mind-numbing revelation that the Eleventh Prince, her beloved little brother—not so little anymore—and the son of her most revered role model, was alive. Purple eyes drank in the image, and she fervently thanked the fates for letting him be all right. Then she remembered how hurt he was, and she closed her palm into a fist over her rapidly beating heart.

When Guilford and Darlton reported back and saluted, the only thing she could whisper was her little brother's name.

*/*

No number, no number, no number, and so on until Milly, followed by another almost endless list of no number lines, then Sayoko, Nunnally, Sayoko, no number, no number, Sayoko, no number, Nunnally, no number…

Such was the log of missed calls on Lelouch's cell phone early the following morning. Nunnally had given all her brother's recovered affects to Suzaku, as promised, and the Japanese boy was surprised to find a total of seventy-one missed calls on Lelouch's cell from the past day and a half. Only a handful of them were from recognizable contacts, and the tan boy's brow furrowed as he scrolled through the list. He hadn't meant to invade his lover's privacy, but seventy-one missed calls seemed a bit extreme, even considering Lelouch had gone missing for a few hours last night. Suzaku sighed as the list of 'no number' lines grew longer, and a familiar tightening in his chest reminded him that these strange phone calls weren't a new occurrence. Not for the first time, he wondered just what Lelouch had been up to recently.

Even his gambling acquaintances shouldn't have been calling so frequently, and surely they knew Lelouch's face; it would be reasonable if the no number lines had stopped calling after the evening news, but the times recorded for the missed calls continued until well into the middle of the night.

It didn't add up.

A shadow fell over him, and Suzaku hurriedly glanced up from his spot on the hallway floor. He was crouched in front of Lelouch's room, waiting his turn to see his beloved. Nunnally had wanted a private visit with her brother, and Suzaku hadn't the heart to argue. Sayoko had invited him to the cafeteria to grab a strong cup of coffee, but Suzaku had wanted to stake out Lelouch's room instead. The Japanese boy had been more or less alone except for the occasional doctor or nurse passing by—until now.

"Kallen!" Suzaku exclaimed, recognizing his schoolmate and slipping Lelouch's cell into his pants pocket. At the moment, his mind didn't register that Kallen had company. "Are you here to see Lelouch? He just woke up. Nunnally's in there with him now." Suzaku tried to smile, but he couldn't quite manage it. So close. He was so close to being alone with his Lelouch…

"Do you want to see your friend first?" asked the redhead's companion, drawing the brunet's attention to him. "I can go on ahead and see your mother; you can join me when you're done here."

Suzaku shot a quizzical look at his friend from school. She was accompanied to the hospital by an older _Japanese_ man. Though he knew those on the Student Council were more open-minded than most of the school's population, he didn't think any of them actually _had_ Japanese friends.

Kallen smiled nervously. "Sure, Ohgi. I'll be right there." To Suzaku, she added, "He was my brother's best friend growing up."

 _Oh, it must be just like Lelouch and me! Kallen's brother, a Britannian, making friends with this Japanese man despite society's prejudices!_ Suzaku's smile turned genuine at the thought, and he waved at the older Japanese. "It's nice to meet you," he said. "I'm Kururugi Suzaku."

Ohgi looked ready to say something, but then he caught himself and said, "Likewise." He grinned hesitantly back before moving on down the hallway, looking over his shoulder once or twice before he turned the corner.

Sighing, Kallen slid down the wall to sit next to the brunet. "I'm sorry you have to go through this," she said, sincerity ringing in her tone. "I know you must be taking it way hard."

"It's nothing more than I deserve," Suzaku answered in a low voice. "It's my fault."

"Why?!" Kallen snapped, turning to glare at him, eyes blazing. "Because you're friends with him?!"

Suzaku met her glare soundly, not flinching from the righteous anger in her tone. "Kallen," he murmured, "I'm an Eleven, and Lelouch was a lot more than _just_ my friend."

It took a moment for the truth to settle, but when it did, the undercover rebel let her jaw drop. "You mean you and he were—the news never mentioned _that—_ but it doesn't matter!" she said, catching herself. "It's still not your fault! Who cares if he's a Britannian and you're 'an Eleven'?" She cringed, hating using such derogatory terminology for their people.

Suzaku frowned, redirecting his attention to the square-patterned floor. "Only bad things come out of a mixed relationship like that. I should have known that from the start."

Seething, Kallen mustered all her strength and slapped him across the face. "How…dare…you?!" she hissed in a choked whisper. Heated tears spilled from her eyes, and his surprised face was blurry because of them as she growled, "For your information, I happen to be half-Japanese! _I_ am the product of a mixed relationship. Do you find me appalling because of my heritage?!"

"N-no," Suzaku breathed, shock filling his features. "I had no idea."

Kallen leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, it's true," she huffed. "I don't really tell anyone, but I figured it might help you to know: You're not alone."

"Thank you, Kallen," Suzaku said, green eyes glittering with warmth now. _Thank you for your trust. And thank you for slapping some sense into me._ "I'll keep your secret." Silence reigned for another few moments until he asked, "Did it work out? Between your parents, I mean, since they were…"

The schoolgirl looked to the ceiling, liquid pooling in her eyes again. "No," she confessed sadly. "Dad got married to another Britannian; that's my stepmother and the lady of the Stadtfeld house. My dad hasn't even been in the picture for years; he left Japan a long time ago. My mom…well…she worked as a maid for the Stadtfelds."

Suzaku winced, understanding the finer details. "How terrible," he mused.

"She worked there," Kallen continued in a deadpan tone, "until her Refrain addiction got so bad she landed herself here in the hospital."

Emerald eyes widened in renewed horror. Refrain was yet another prime example of how the Japanese suffered due to Britannia's oppressive interference, and Suzaku understood the social implications underlying the other's words. "Oh, Kallen! I'm so—"

"Don't say it!" Kallen snapped, once more glaring at him. "I don't want to hear your apologies. You've done nothing wrong, and your acting all emo doesn't help _anything!_ I'm strong, Suzaku, and I don't need you to coddle me!"

 _I can handle the world, so give me more credit…_

Suzaku, wide-eyed, shrank back and dumbly nodded. Trying to pull his mind away from Lelouch's empty promises, he mentioned, "I'm honored that you're telling me all this, Kallen. But why…?"

The redhead shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I know you're going through a lot right now. Your friendship—excuse me, relationship—with Lelouch ended up like this because a lot of Britannians look down on us Japanese. My family is all screwed up for the same reason; this Britannian-ruled society drove my mom to drugs, and now she can't even speak." Her voice was hard as she detailed their shared suffering. "No one at school really understands. Well, you have the compassionate ones, like Lelouch and the others on the Student Council, but none of them really _get_ it. I guess I didn't want you to feel all lost; I'm in the same boat as you. This society is pretty messed up, Suzaku, and it needs to change. Things like what happened to Lelouch last night—those _can't_ be allowed to continue!" Her eyes burned with determination. "I know I _look_ like a pureblood Britannian, and that makes it easy for me at Ashford, but you…"

"I understand," Suzaku cut in gently. "And thanks. It does help to know I'm not the only one, and hey, I think it's pretty cool that you're Japanese." Some of the tension ebbed from his shoulders, and he relaxed a bit more against the wall. "Heh, I thought it was weird that you came here with a Japanese friend, and now come to find out you're one of us, too. That's pretty amazing."

Kallen laughed awkwardly. "Yeah. My brother chose his Japanese heritage, and the man who came here with me is his oldest friend. Kinda like a second big brother, you know?"

Suzaku nodded. "So I guess it's not like Lelouch and me." At Kallen's blank stare, he explained, "I was thinking earlier that your brother was a Britannian who befriended a Japanese, kinda like Lelouch's and my friendship."

"Friendship?" Kallen asked, playfully jabbing him in the side.

With a light pink spreading across his cheeks, Suzaku mumbled, " _Yes_ , friendship. We didn't start off as boyfriends, you know."

"Oh, right, you were childhood friends," Kallen remembered. "So…how long have you two been, uh, together?"

Suzaku's lip twitched. "If you must know, a little over six months."

"Wow, you made it work that long?" Kallen asked.

"You sound surprised," the brunet shot back, green eyes light from the friendly banter. "Lelouch and I…"

Kallen smiled. "You can make it."

Suzaku stilled at her encouragement. "Maybe," he said half-heartedly. "There are things I need to—well, yeah…" Lifting his head, he changed the subject, "You're different from how you are at school."

"I have my secrets," Kallen said, shrugging. "Don't think you know me just because we're on the Student Council together. And don't think you know me because of everything I just told you."

Before Suzaku could respond, the door to Lelouch's room slid open and Nunnally rolled out. "All right, Suzaku!" she chirped. She was much happier now that she'd spoken to her big brother. "He can't wait to see you, but he told me to pass on a message before you go in: 'If all you're going to do is blame yourself, then you'd be better off going home.' That's what he said."

Kallen smirked triumphantly in his direction, and Suzaku amusedly shook his head before rising to his feet.

*/*

"It's about time you got here," Lloyd complained bright and early in the morning. He took a second look, then gushed, "Oh, and you brought Princess Euphemia _with_ you! How _delightful!_ " Dim electric light glinted off his glasses, obscuring his eyes. Despite being up half the night, he was chipper and impolite as ever.

Cecile poked her head around a pile of machinery and almost fainted once she realized who was visiting. "Y-your Highnesses!" she screeched. In all the confusion concerning Suzaku and his lover, she'd forgotten the Second Prince was scheduled to arrive. Swaying, she reached to put her hand on her head; her wrist was caught in a powerful grip before she completed the action.

The blond Second Prince smiled down at the flushed, blue-haired researcher. Gently, he slid his fingers from her wrist to her palm, being sure to support her weight. "There's no need to feel light-headed around me, Miss Cecile Croomy," he assured, voice deep. With amusement, he noted how she swooned at the sound of her name on his lips. He chuckled. "Yes, I am Schneizel el Britannia," he confirmed, "and I believe you've already met my dear sister Euphemia."

Euphy giggled at the exchange, nodding to each of the researchers. "But," she exclaimed, looking around the damaged lab, "surely you two aren't the _only_ ones here?"

Cecile's smile softened, catching on to what the young princess was _really_ asking. "I'm sorry, but Suzaku won't be joining us for awhile. I'm afraid he's still dealing with the attack from yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Schneizel asked, raising an eyebrow in bewilderment. "I thought the Black Knights attacked on Sunday."

"Yes, but the _other_ attack," Lloyd explained impatiently. A wide, knowing smile stretched across his face before he followed it up with a subject change. "Now, how quickly do you think you can arrange for that extra supply of sakuradite to get here?"

"What other attack?!" Euphemia gasped. A pale, delicate hand flew to cover her mouth.

"It had nothing to do with the Black Knights," Lloyd answered, upset that the pink-haired princess insisted on ignoring the subject of the Lancelot. The white Knightmare was _far_ more important. Still, his blue eyes glittered as he baited, "This one focused on Suzaku's personal life."

Tears gathered at the corners of Euphemia's lavender eyes. "You mean Suzaku was personally targeted?!"

"Not him, no. His boyfriend." Despite having grown tired of this conversation, Lloyd was amused to note the reactions of the royal siblings.

" _Boyfriend?!_ " they exclaimed in unison. Two pairs of eyes widened in disbelief, and Euphemia's already pale face whitened dramatically. Schneizel laid a comforting hand on his younger sister's shoulder before pointedly looking at the ASEEC members. "Please elaborate." Euphemia had to work to keep herself from hyperventilating so she could hear the explanation.

"But it has nothing to do with the Lancelot!" Lloyd protested, casting a desperate look at the damaged Knightmare. Cecile frowned at him.

"Still, something has affected the life of one of my men. These things are important to me."

Gratitude swam in Cecile's eyes. No wonder the Second Prince made such a wonderful leader; he truly cared for people, not just the systems they made up. If Lloyd wouldn't volunteer information, then she would just have to take over—and yes, maybe she was secretly thrilled to have another chance to talk to the Second Prince. "Yesterday evening, Suzaku's lover was the victim of a hate crime. Suzaku is currently at the nearest hospital, waiting for word on his condition."

"Why, that's horrible!" Schneizel exclaimed emphatically, properly horrified, his fingers tightening on Euphemia's shoulder. "Surely not because the two boys were homosexual…?"

Lloyd stroked his chin, giving in to the current topic of conversation once again. "No, it was more because his boyfriend was Britannian. Though I'm sure the whole gay factor contributed to it as well."

Euphy started to sink to the floor, but Schneizel caught her by the waist. "I want to see Suzaku," she begged, her chin jutting out determinedly. "Please, brother?"

"And I want to fix the Lancelot," Lloyd said petulantly.

Cecile, reacting to the emotional turmoil of the young princess, argued, "But Lloyd, we can fix the Lancelot anytime. Suzaku needs his friends right now more than ever!" She sent an encouraging smile at Euphy, winking when her boss wasn't looking.

"I don't see why we can't all make a short visit to the hospital," Schneizel agreed pleasantly. "Perhaps our involvement in this issue will send a warning that hate crimes like this are not tolerated in Britannia. We'll work on the Lancelot when we get back." Periwinkle eyes glinted down at his kind-hearted sister, and he didn't stagger when she leapt up and gratefully threw her arms around his shoulders.

Lloyd folded his arms across his chest, brow furrowed, as he complained, "Britannian princes, interfering with my poor Lancelot…"

*/*

"I couldn't get ahold of either Prince Schneizel or Princess Euphemia," Guilford admitted. "Nobody is at the university, and I couldn't break through another call they must have been taking. They never switched over to me."

Cornelia scowled but stomped over to her personal transport car. "Very well. For now, I'll go by myself." She raised an eyebrow at their puzzled expressions and corrected herself: "You two will be accompanying me. Now get in!" They scrambled to obey, and the Second Princess felt her heart constrict at what was awaiting her at the hospital.

Darlton shared another confused look with the princess's knight and finally asked, "My lady, what is so important about this boy?"

"Lelouch."

"Pardon me, my lady?"

Cornelia continued scowling out the window. "His name is Lelouch."

The General merely nodded. "All right, Lelouch then. What is so incredibly special about him?"

"He's alive, for one," Cornelia said in an even tone. "When you're supposed to be dead, being alive is a miraculous feat." She closed her eyes and couldn't help but wonder: _Is Nunnally alive, too?_

Guilford dared to shrug at the other man before asking, "Princess, just how do you know this supposed-to-be-dead teenage boy?"

Cornelia dragged her gaze back to her knight. "Do you not remember him yourself? Think back to right before your knighting ceremony."

" _Big sister! Big sister!" squealed an eight-year-old Euphemia. "Today's the day you get a_ _ **knight**_ _. Aren't you excited? Are you going to live happily ever after like in all the fairytales?"_

 _Before nineteen-year-old Second Princess Cornelia li Britannia could answer, another of her younger siblings stepped in. Half-brother, in this case, Eleventh Prince Lelouch vi Britannia. "She's getting a knight, Euphy, not a husband. It's different."_

 _Euphy frowned, her lower lip jutting out. "Aw, but I think Cornelia should get married and have a big wedding! Then we could all wear frilly dresses and eat cake and dance!"_

 _Cornelia chuckled at her younger sister's enthusiasm. Little Euphy could get away with saying things no one else could. Her chuckles escalated into a full-scale laugh when she heard Lelouch grumble, "_ _ **I'm**_ _not wearing a frilly dress."_

" _You have a beautiful laugh, Princess," interjected a voice from the doorway._

 _The Second Princess stopped laughing immediately, turning around to stare at the man she'd chosen to champion her in battle. Gilbert G.P. Guilford. It was the only time she'd ever blushed in front of him. "What are you doing here?" she snapped._

 _Guilford bowed deeply from the waist. "I was told I could find you here, Princess. I need to know how you want to proceed with the ceremony."_

" _You're not supposed to see her until she walks down the aisle!" Euphy cried, stomping her little foot. The knight-to-be fought back a blush at the implications._

 _Lelouch hurried to Euphy's side to console her. "Sh, Euphy, that'd only be if they were getting married. They're not." He cast a critical eye over Cornelia's choice and slowly nodded his approval. "He's not much to look at, sister, but if you trust him to watch your back, then I'll trust your judgment."_

 _The corner of Cornelia's lip twitched upwards into a small smile. "Thank you, Lelouch."_

 _Guilford only shook his head. Not much to look at, eh?_

 _Euphy ran to Guilford and tugged at his pants leg. "Big brother is going to be a knight when he grows up, just like you!" she proclaimed._

 _He smiled indulgingly down at her before flicking his eyes back to the young prince._

 _Lelouch scoffed, "No, I'm not. I'm going to remain a prince. In fact, I might get a knight of my own. So there!"_

 _Euphy scowled at him playfully. "Nu-uh, no fair! Only princesses should be allowed to get knights. We're the ones that need them."_

 _Snickering, Cornelia had to tease, "Oh, I think Lelouch is weak enough to need protection later on down the road."_

 _Seeming to ignore his older half-sister, Lelouch stuffily recited, "'Having a knight is a privilege of royalty.' There. That's gender-neutral." At Euphy's blank stare, he explained, "That means it doesn't matter if you're a prince or princess. As long as you're royalty, you're allowed a personal knight. And I deserve my own. After all, I am a prince, aren't I?" He laughed, and Euphy joined in._

 _Guilford couldn't help but ask, "And when you choose your knight, Prince, are you going to select him based on whether he looks decent?"_

 _Cornelia laughed again, and Lelouch had to think for a moment. "No-ooo," he said slowly, drawing out his answer. "When I choose my knight, I'll select the person who best balances me out. I'm really smart but I don't do so well at physical activity. So I'd need someone exceptionally good at all the physical components. I suppose it wouldn't matter if he was an idiot as long as he could follow my orders…but I'd really prefer someone I could hold a decent conversation with."_

" _What about choosing a man you love?" Euphy asked slyly, glancing between her older sister and Guilford. She was determined to see them married._

 _Cornelia sighed and shook her head. "Euphy, Lelouch isn't gay."_

" _What's that mean?" the little girl asked. She blinked innocently up her older siblings._

 _Lelouch barely kept his composure; his teeth clenched. He understood Cornelia's words. He may have only been a year older than Euphy, but his intelligence surpassed his years. And of course it helped that he'd grown up around Schneizel._

" _I'll explain when you're older," the purple-haired princess hastily promised. "Lelouch, take Euphy to find your mother and Nunnally. My knight and I need to get in position for the ceremony."_

 _Lelouch nodded and inclined his head slightly in Guilford's direction. "Let me be the first to congratulate you, Mr. Knight. Take care of my sister or you'll face the consequences dealt out by Prince Lelouch vi Britannia." He guided Euphy out the door by her shoulders, never once looking back._

Guilford blinked and pushed back the memory. "He's your little brother?" he breathed, face frozen in shock. Now that he remembered the face of the nine-year-old prince, it was easy to link him to the hurt boy on the news. No one else could ever possess Prince Lelouch's grace and fine features.

Darlton gasped, "Little _brother?!_ My lady, I didn't think you had any other relatives in Area 11."

"I didn't know either until half an hour ago," Cornelia said bitterly. "Now be quiet. We're here."

*/*

"I trust your judgment," Schneizel said warmly to the man on his communications channel. "This falls under your expertise, so carry through with the project as you see fit."

"Oh, thank you, Prince Schneizel! You won't regret backing this. He's a bit unstable now, but soon enough—"

Schneizel held up a hand. "That's enough, Bartley. You don't need to thank me. Just keep me informed of his progress. Otherwise, I give you free reign to do whatever you please to your latest experimental subject." He quickly shut off communications, never noticing the second call trying to get through; a certain little sister was distracting him.

"How long can we stay at the hospital, brother?" Euphy's eyes pleaded with him to say something along the lines of, 'all day if necessary,' but Schneizel only shook his head.

"We can't stay there too long. Earl Asplund is right in that we need to work on the Lancelot. After all, that is one of the main reasons I'm here."

"One of…?" Euphy echoed, voice betraying her confusion. Her face fell at the time limit, but she supposed she understood.

The blond prince chuckled. "Well, I have another few matters to attend to in the meantime, but they're nothing for you to concern yourself over." He laid a hand on her shoulder again, offering her a soft smile. Euphy smiled back trustingly.

"Was that General Bartley?" Lloyd inquired from the driver's seat. "I thought he was disgracefully shipped back to the homeland by Jeremiah Gottwald."

"Yes, well," Schneizel answered, "I put him under my command. He's part of my escort, so he's here in Area 11 with me."

Lloyd was silent for a long moment, taking everything in. Curiosity finally got the better of him and he asked, "And what kind of inhumane project is he working on _now?_ Still dealing with poison gas, is he?"

Schneizel met the scientist's eye in the rearview mirror. "I don't pretend to understand what Bartley involves himself with, so I couldn't tell you if I wanted to."

"Ah, it's that big a secret, is it?" Lloyd quipped. "Fine then. Don't tell me." He sulked.

The prince laughed outright. "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"Nothing," Lloyd agreed without hesitation. A small giggle erupted from his throat, and Cecile could only shake her head and wonder at what the Second Prince must think of them.

Euphy smiled at the lighthearted atmosphere inside the Lancelot's trailer, not knowing that she was seated in the very spot Suzaku had perched not one day ago. Her smile dimmed at the revelation of the morning—not only was he taken, but he was gay as well. The smothering feeling she experienced at the news told her just how deeply she'd fallen—without even realizing it—and she didn't know how to handle the sudden darkness in her heart. The despair over Suzaku settled atop the despair she felt at her own country's atrocious practices, and she felt heavy from all the sadness weighing her down.

Cecile shot her an understanding look from the front seat.

The pink-haired princess nodded back her appreciation and stared out the window as the hospital came into view. _If Suzaku is happy with his boyfriend, then I have no right to get in the way of that,_ she mused. _Cornelia will be happy if I back off of him—since he's only a Number in her eyes. So Suzaku will be happy, Suzaku's boyfriend will be happy, Cornelia will be happy. Everyone will be happy…_ A lone tear trailed down her porcelain cheek. _…Everyone, that is, except me._

*/*

"Look! It's Viceroy Cornelia!"

"What's she doing here?"

"She looks super mad, dude, don't get in her way!"

"Hell, she's hot when she's pissed!"

"Why is the Second Princess here at the hospital?"

Nunnally froze in her wheelchair, hearing the surrounding shouts. "Miss Sayoko?" she asked hesitantly. "What's going on?" The warm morning sunlight did nothing to melt the chill in her bones.

"It's nothing to worry about, Lady Nunnally," the Japanese nursemaid assured her. "Princess Cornelia appeared and it's causing a bit of chaos, that's all. We won't go near the crowd."

The crippled princess panicked initially before she sighed and half-hoped Cornelia would spot her, even if it would cause trouble for her brother's carefully constructed lie. She needed her family more than ever, and with Lelouch in the hospital, she had no one. Suzaku, Sayoko, and the members of the Student Council were all well and good, but they weren't family in the same sense that Cornelia and Euphy were. "Is Princess Euphemia with her?" Nunnally asked, trying to keep the curiosity in her tone to a casual minimum.

Sayoko answered lightly, "I'm afraid not, my lady."

"Oh," Nunnally said, trying to keep the disappointment from welling. Someone bumped into her wheelchair, and she heard her personal nurse apologize profusely for the collision.

"No, it's my fault," said a man's voice, and Nunnally strained her ears because it sounded so familiar. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked.

Nunnally assumed he was talking to her; people always fretted over her because of her condition. "I'm fine," she promised, voice ringing strongly over the parking lot. "I've been through much worse than someone walking into me, so don't worry." She smiled brightly up at where she thought the man to be.

"Guilford, what's the hold-up?!" a harsh female voice demanded; the sound of purposeful footsteps on the pavement drew closer. "Why did you stop—oh!" Cornelia gasped and, ignoring the crowd, fell to her knees and swept her little half-sister into a hug. " _Nunnally!_ "

The crippled princess felt her heart leap at the embrace. _Cornelia!_ It had been so long since someone—besides her brother or Suzaku—recognized her for whom she truly was. "Hi, sister," she whispered softly, and the tears started rolling again.

Cornelia hugged her more tightly, barely keeping her own tears from falling. Finally noticing the crowd, Cornelia stood up and asked, "Would you come inside with me so we can talk?"

Sayoko, shocked, could only stare at her mistress. "My lady, are you acquainted with the Second Princess?"

"And all of the others, too," Nunnally laughed. " _And_ the princes."

"Do you want to go inside, then?" the nursemaid asked, trying to stick to the issue at hand. "You've had a very hard night. I'm sure everyone would understand if you wanted to rest."

Cornelia glared. How dare this _Eleven_ step in and treat her order as a mere request, to be declined at will? Perhaps her invitation was worded as a question, but surely Nunnally understood…

The crippled princess giggled. "Don't worry so much about me, Miss Sayoko. I can handle staying up a little while longer."

Cornelia's glare softened as it started to sink in: This Eleven was only concerned about Nunnally's fragile state. She'd jumped to conclusions because of her view on Numbers, and her lip curled at the realization. "We need a private room," she said, her tone still orderly, but somehow less cross.

Sayoko nodded. "That can be arranged, Princess." She turned and pushed Nunnally's wheelchair back towards the doors, but Cornelia stopped her.

"Let me," the purple-haired princess said, though there was a slight question in her voice. Wordlessly, Sayoko stepped aside and Cornelia took over pushing Nunnally's wheelchair.

Hands fidgeting without a task to do, Sayoko led the way back into the hospital. The two princesses followed close behind, and the older princess's loyal underlings brought up the rear. The crowd didn't dare come inside.

Five minutes later, the unlikely group was given a private conference room; it was much larger than the room where the doctor had revealed the details about Lelouch's condition. Everyone had room to stretch out, but Cornelia stayed close to her little half-sister and clutched her hand.

"How…?" she asked, her voice catching on the word.

Darlton shot the other man another confused look. Guilford racked his brain, trying to remember where he'd heard the name 'Nunnally' before.

"Well," Nunnally said, holding Cornelia's hand twice as hard. "When we were sent to Japan after Father exiled us…"

Cornelia interrupted, "No, not that! You can tell me about all that later. I want to know how Lelouch is. I want to know how he is _right now_."

*/*

"What should I say to him?" Euphy whispered, hanging off her brother's arm. She hardly noticed the white hallways of the hospital around her, or the strong smell of antiseptic. "He never told me he had a boyfriend. Do I act like I don't know? Do I hug him, or is that too forward? What do you think?"

Schneizel briefly smiled down at her. "I think you worry too much, little sister. Just be natural. He's your friend, isn't he? I gathered you two were close from everything you've told me."

The pink-haired princess glumly nodded. "Yes, but…things are different now."

"Just because he happens to like men?" the blond prince asked. Periwinkle eyes gazed into her lavender and, discerning the truth of the matter, he consoled, "I'm sorry you had to lose him this way, dear Euphy."

The girl blushed and shyly lowered her head. She couldn't deny it. "Me too," she whispered sadly.

Lloyd grinned eerily from behind. "Suzaku must attract the royal pretty ones."

Euphy gasped and blushed even harder. Cecile wanted to pretend she didn't know the eccentric man, but she'd thrown her lot in with his and she didn't want all those years previous to have been spent in vain. So she settled on an annoyed, "Lloyd, please!"

"Please what?" the scientist asked, that same sparkle present in his eyes. "Please keep talking about how Suzaku attracts attention from exquisite Britannian royalty?"

"I don't even know what you're talking about anymore," Cecile moaned.

Schneizel looked over his shoulder to see what was happening between Earl Asplund and his assistant. With his face turned away, he walked right into someone. "Excuse me," he hastily apologized, turning his head back around, expecting to see a hurrying doctor or nurse. He was surprised, instead, to find his half-sister, Cornelia li Britannia.

"Sister!" Euphy cried jubilantly and gathered Cornelia's hands in her own. "Oh, you must have heard the news. I'm so glad you came! I thought of calling you, but I didn't think you'd be interested in coming down here—"

Cornelia flinched. "Why wouldn't I be here?! Do you think I'm that heartless—that I wouldn't care? _Of course_ I care!" Her expression and voice portrayed the anger and hurt at Euphemia's words.

Euphy inhaled deeply, lavender eyes glittering with tears. "I know you don't like Elevens, so I didn't think you'd consider this important."

"Elevens?" Cornelia asked in a deadly tone. "What about _Elevens?_ Euphy, why are you here?"

Lloyd started to laugh; his whole body shook from the force of it. Cecile hid her face because of him. Schneizel watched the Knightmare-frame designer carefully, storing his odd behavior away for later analysis.

Euphemia's joyful expression fell. "We're here for Suzaku. Isn't that why _you're_ here?"

"No, _I'm_ here for Lelouch," Cornelia corrected.

Euphy jerked back, startled. Hope shone in her eyes. Of course she'd suspected Lelouch was alive ever since the hotel jacking, but to hear it confirmed…

"Lelouch?" Schneizel repeated in an even tone. "Cornelia, surely you realize that's absurd. Lelouch is dead." He moved towards her, sensing she must be confused, but the short-tempered princess quickly backed away.

Frowning, she insisted, "Schneizel, Lelouch is alive. He's here at this hospital. Right now."

Cecile bit her lip worriedly. At once, she recognized the name of Suzaku's boyfriend, but what did he have to do with the Imperial Britannian Family? Glancing at her superior, she found him eerily grinning.

"She's right, you know," Lloyd spoke up, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm afraid the princess _hasn't_ taken one too many hits from a Knightmare." Everyone stared at him.

Schneizel's expression quickly turned to one of bewilderment. "Do you mean he's been in a coma here for seven years? But that's ridiculous; someone would have notified us!"

"He was hurt _last night!_ " Cornelia huffed. She turned her intense stare on Lloyd. "You're obviously aware of what's going on here. Tell us everything you know."

Lloyd's smirk grew to cover his entire face. "Do you want the short version or the long version?"

Cornelia bristled with anger, but Schneizel smoothly stepped in and answered, "We want the informatively succinct version, if you wouldn't mind."

Lloyd had to wipe a tear from his eye before he could start, and then he doubled over laughing again and he had to wait for _that_ laughing fit to be over. Finally, when even Schneizel's normally tolerant and placid expression was twisting into a pained grimace, Lloyd said in a sing-song, "Once upon a time, there was a young Britannian prince who was sent to live in a country called Japan. He befriended a local Japanese boy and…" He stopped for a moment, shrugged, made a mental guess, and continued, "…er, I'm guessing they shared some traumatic experiences, what with the whole _war_ thing and all, and then they were unfairly separated and they were sad. Boo hoo." He took off his glasses and theatrically dabbed at his dry, laughing eyes.

"Then seven years later, they were reunited and," he paused dramatically, "they were so overjoyed at seeing one another again that they fell in love. Well, they became all cuddly-wuddly with one another, and some of the other Britannians in the area didn't like _that_. So those closed-minded Britannian boys cornered the prince and beat him to a bloody pulp for daring to love a 'lowly Eleven,' and then he was carted off to the hospital where the 'lowly Eleven' proceeded to annoyingly blame himself the entire time." He stopped to catch his breath, then finished, "The following morning, the prince's extended family just magically happened to turn up—what a coincidence!—and though they thought they came for different reasons, the truth is that they were all present for the _exact same thing_."

Everyone gaped at him.

Euphemia took a step back, hearing the blood rush in her ears. Suzaku was gay. Lelouch was alive. They knew each other. They _were gay_ for each other—and she had neither (boy)friend nor brother to truly call her own. Her hands shook at the knowledge.

Cecile forced her jaw to close. "Are you…telling me…that Suzaku's boyfriend is a _Britannian prince?_ "

Lloyd nodded proudly. "None other than his esteemed highness, Prince Lelouch vi Britannia, eldest child of the late Empress Marianne." At Cecile's stunned look, he moaned, " _Please_ tell me you recognize _that_ name. Lady Marianne was one of the first to ever pilot a Knightmare. She was the _Knight of Two_ and you're telling me you didn't research her? She piloted the _Ganymede_ I want!" He whined.

Schneizel regained his legendary composure. "But how did Lelouch survive the war? And what about Nunnally?"

"She's alive," Cecile and Cornelia said simultaneously. Euphy smiled weakly; the fact that Nunnally was alive as well calmed her tempest heart.

Cornelia spared the researcher a glance before pinning Lloyd with a stare. "And how long have you known about our little brother being alive?"

Lloyd chuckled. "Oh, maybe about fifteen hours."

"How did you recognize him?" Schneizel pressed.

"There aren't many teenagers the correct ages named Lelouch and Nunnally wandering around Area 11, especially when Nunnally just so happens to be blind and crippled—the exact same injuries suffered by Lady Marianne's daughter at the time of her death. It wasn't hard to put it all together," Lloyd said flippantly, shrugging off his brilliance. "I just did my research, that's all."

Cecile wrapped her arms around herself. "Do you think Suzaku knows he's dating a prince? I mean, if Lelou— _Prince_ Lelouch wanted to keep his status a secret, he wouldn't tell anyone. Unless Suzaku knew him by his title as a child…"

"I think he did," Lloyd answered. "I think he knew _exactly_ who his lover was. Why do you think he was so hesitant at talking about him?"

His assistant shrugged. "I thought he was just embarrassed."

"No," Lloyd refuted firmly. "Suzaku knew, and he was doing his damndest to keep his lover's secret."

"What makes you so sure?" Cecile asked.

Lloyd smiled again. "Because they love each other—which means they tell each other everything, of course!"

Cecile groaned and held a hand to her head. "You don't understand how human emotion works, do you?"

"Ask him," Lloyd insisted. "You'll see. Suzaku knew all along."

Cornelia growled. "That _Eleven!_ He dared _touch_ my little brother with his vile hands; how _dare_ he think himself worthy!" Anger roiled off her in waves. "He knew two of our family were alive this whole time, and he let us think—"

Schneizel calmly put a hand on her shoulder. "Sister, he was most likely keeping silent because Lelouch asked him to. I, for one, am happy our little brother found someone he obviously trusts so much."

Cornelia snarled again, purple eyes blazing. "How could he trust an Eleven?!"

The blond prince turned his stare on Lloyd. "Earl Asplund said they knew each other before the war. That makes sense, considering Kururugi's father was the Japanese Prime Minister at the time our siblings lived here. And besides, even if he is a Number, everything I've heard about Kururugi tells me he is to be admired."

Barking, cynical laughter erupted from the viceroy. "Why am I not surprised?" Schneizel stared perplexedly at her, and she elaborated, "Lelouch. He gets it from you—that whole attitude. You were his favorite brother, and he idolized you. I know you know that; you encouraged him to emulate you. And he did!" Waving a hand, she kept ranting, "With taking after your chess obsession, your clothing style, your way of thinking and strategizing, your _view on people_ …why, who knows how he grew up! He could be a black-haired mini-clone of you! He might even make wild gestures when he speaks!"

Schneizel chuckled deeply. "That is true. I did influence him a lot when he was young."

"And look where it's landed him!" Cornelia hissed angrily. "Surrounding himself with that Eleven has cost him his legs; it almost cost him his life!"

Euphy glanced uneasily between her two older siblings. "Let's all stop arguing and go see Lelouch," she suggested, stepping between them. They had blocked the public hallway long enough.

"I think you're going to have to wait on that," piped up a soft voice from behind Cornelia. Everyone's attention swiveled to the frail blind girl in the wheelchair, flanked by Guilford, Darlton, and Sayoko. Nunnally smiled, sensing their stares, and explained, "Lelouch is awake and everything, but I think right now, there's only one person in the world he wants to see."

*/*

Suzaku swallowed and stepped through the door. He kept his eyes glued to the floor, too scared to look up. Despite the fact that he'd seen Lelouch at his worst, it had been in the heat of the moment, and right now he didn't know what to say or do. His legs felt stiff as he walked over to his lover's bedside, careful not to touch Lelouch at all. He squeezed his eyes shut before raising his head, a couple tears leaking through the corners. "I'm glad you're alive," he managed, his tone soft, almost fluttery in his hesitation. _Idiot_ , he berated himself, _why didn't I start this off with an 'I love you'? Because Kallen's here?_

Violet eyes drank in the sweet sight of Suzaku. Last night was a blur, but Lelouch was awake and in his right mind now—and he wanted nothing but to hold his lover. His life was mercifully spared, and he was going to take advantage of that and stay by Suzaku's side as long as he could. Everything below his waist stung and throbbed with overwhelming pain, but somehow seeing his brown-haired, green-eyed Japanese boyfriend was enough to give him the strength to endure it. He didn't know how to respond to his lover's words. _I'm glad I'm alive, too? I'm glad you're alive with me? Come kiss me, you idiot?_

Kallen made her presence known and stepped closer to the beaten boy, reaching out to him. Then, upon realizing what she was doing, she let her arm fall back to dangle uselessly at her side. "I saw you," she explained, her tone matching Suzaku's. "On the news," she added hurriedly. "I didn't know if you were—anyway, I was here already, so I thought I'd stop by…"

Tearing his gaze from Suzaku, Lelouch forced himself to focus on his other company. "Here because of your illness?" he asked, his voice a bit strained. Then, backpedaling, he exclaimed, "I was on the _news_?"

The redhead stared at him, uncomprehending. Then, she straightened and forced out her incredibly weak fake cough. "Um, yes, you see," she started to say and then fell into another unconvincing coughing act. She completely ignored his second question, too intent on playing the 'sick schoolgirl.'

Lelouch _almost_ gave in to the urge to roll his eyes; he didn't know _how_ Kallen kept up her act with the way she was constantly slipping in her role. He couldn't keep covering for her.

"She's here to visit a family member," Suzaku explained, smiling weakly at the flustered girl.

Lelouch nodded, remembering the truth behind Kallen's family situation. Her mother must still have been hospitalized from the Refrain abuse, or maybe she'd had a horrible relapse and was brought back for more treatment. But—only Zero knew those details; Lelouch Lamperouge was blissfully ignorant. And even with his entire lower body shattered, even in extreme pain, Lelouch Lamperouge did not forget to keep up his act. "Oh?" he innocently inquired.

Slowly nodding to affirm Suzaku's testament, she pulled a chair close to the patient's bedside. "Yeah, what he said," she muttered, even though it was a bit redundant. Lelouch was more an acquaintance than a friend, and she kind of disliked him for his attitude, but he'd kept her true personality secret from the other Student Council members. She didn't know what to say to him.

Suzaku carefully lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. He glanced at his beaten lover for a quick second and then hastily looked away. Was it all right to look at Lelouch? The purple-eyed prince always had to look impeccable, and right now he looked anything but. Would it be disrespectful to look at him, stepped on and utterly crushed though he was?

Lelouch sighed and commanded, "Suzaku, look at me." His heart rate started to pick up in anticipation. He wanted to have those emerald eyes fixated on him; he couldn't wait…

Green eyes flickered in his direction. "Yes?" the brunet breathed.

"Tell me what's wrong," Lelouch ordered, his voice still in that slow, patient tone.

Suzaku shook his head. His fingers dug into the thin hospital bed, and his eyes clenched shut. He'd done nothing but wish to be alone with his lover, but now he didn't know... And he still wasn't completely alone with Lelouch; Kallen was there. It wasn't like he could pour his heart out in front of her…

He was saved from answering when Kallen asked, "Do you know what you're going to…do?" she asked, uneasily waving her hand in the general direction of Lelouch's legs.

"They explained a basic treatment plan early this morning when I woke up," the patient answered. "But in addition to what they have scheduled for me, there's also a scientist I want to look up on my own. I've been reading about her online for awhile now. At first, I thought her work in medical cybernetics might be beneficial for Nunnally, but maybe she can help me, too."

"I see," Kallen said. "Good luck with that."

Lelouch simply said, "Thank you," and dismissively turned his attention once more to his silently suffering lover.

Uncomfortable, Kallen fidgeted in her seat. "Maybe I should go—"

"If the Black Knights hadn't attacked on Sunday, I would've been able to go to school yesterday and protect you!" Suzaku exclaimed suddenly, cutting Kallen off.

The pilot rebel shook where she sat, a wave of cold guilt drowning her senses. She'd never really stopped to consider the consequences of following Zero, and now one of her classmates was severely injured because of her actions. Even if indirectly. At least he was alive; at least no one close to her had died or been affected by death. "This…is the Black Knights' fault…?" she asked in a low voice of disbelief. Aquamarine eyes were wide, and there was a hint of tears ready to spill down her cheeks.

"No!" Lelouch snapped warningly. Suzaku didn't move at his harsh tone, but the prince still forced himself to calm down when he amended, "At least, not entirely. If the blame is to fall on anyone, it should be on Zero himself! The rest of the Black Knights are innocent." Determined violet eyes pierced into aquamarine over Suzaku's bowed head, and Kallen wondered just why she was so moved and comforted by the passion in Lelouch's voice.

The thought that Lelouch didn't seem surprised about the Black Knights' latest attack never crossed her mind.

The redhead jumped to her feet, still a bit shaky from her recently activated conscience. "I hope you feel better," Kallen forced out. "But I gotta go. I'll come visit you again soon," she promised and was out the door before either boy could reply.

Suzaku stared blankly after her sudden departure. Then, he turned back to those shimmering violet irises he fell for so long ago and realized…

…he was finally alone with Lelouch.

*/*

-End chapter-


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